


Ladies of Typhoon

by Natron77



Series: Lewdnessday Tales [14]
Category: Faeros - Fandom, Monster Girls | Monster Boys, Original Work
Genre: Amazons - Freeform, Cunnilingus, Demons, Dinosaur women, F/F, Face-Sitting, Faeros, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Interspecies Relationship(s), Jungle, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians, Love, Monster Girls, Muscles, Open Relationships, Romance, Royalty, Succubus, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natron77/pseuds/Natron77
Summary: Far beyond the shores of Faeros, in a patch of seas that had been unpassable for eons, there is an island of towering warrior women with striking prehistoric features and powerful muscles. Five tribes lived in relative harmony, unified against the monsters of their wild jungle home. But then boats of small men started to arrive, bringing change and conflict.And one lovely Warrior of the Sloth tribe started to earn quite a reputation among the visitors...(This is a special spinoff of myMythic Menagerie of Faerosseries, specifically relating to chapter 10,Tribes of Typhoon, the Timelost Island. I recommend reading that first)
Series: Lewdnessday Tales [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/444721
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. A Bit of Diplomacy

"And this was addressed to you, _specifically?_ " the Mammoth Tribe Chieftess asked with more than a hint of doubt in her voice.

She set the gold-sealed envelope down on the sturdy towerwood table, then gracefully lowered herself onto a stone bench seat, habitually pulling her silk-wrapped and blonde-tufted tail out of the way. Tiny undergarments of the same imported pink silk disappeared between her thick sun-kissed thighs and bounteous curves. Her upper body had considerably more coverage thanks to a supportive brassiere of black silk and Sky Terror wing bones, favored by craftswomen for their strength and lightness. A thick braid of bright blonde hair cascaded over one tanned shoulder alongside a grey elephantine ear. Above that, two short ivory tusks framed a gorgeous face of cherry-red lips, soft cheeks, and piercingly intelligent grey eyes.

She was The Madame, the most famous Chieftess of the Mammoth Tribe and a renowned expert on all things sexual. But her skills didn't end there, and today she would be applying her leadership experience to a diplomatic issue.

"It was," the smaller and furrier woman answered, twirling a lock of her waist-length purple hair around one finger. "And I confirmed with two different trade guild representatives: that is definitely the King's seal." The seal on the letter had yet to be broken, because the two women were waiting for one more to contribute her opinion.

The Sloth Tribe Warrior paced around the room, her bare feet shuffling lightly on the smooth wooden floor. Like most of the house, the floor was made from cured towerwood, the only building material on the island of Typhoon strong enough to hold entire villages of 8-foot-tall women hundreds of feet above the ground and away from the dangerous monsters that dwelled there.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, revealing an expanse of bare and deeply tanned skin on her chest. Her breasts were not nearly as large as The Madame's, but they were well-shaped and pillowy. Other than her upper chest and head, the rest of her body was covered in soft tan fur, one shade lighter than her sun-kissed skin.

"Korla should have been here by now," she whined, sounding lonely.

"She'll be here before the planned time, don't you worry," The Madame responded. Then she smiled slyly. "Unless you had been hoping for some alone time before the meeting, Plum?"

Plum blushed and avoided eye contact, an answer just as clear as if she had spoken aloud.

The Madame fanned herself with her ears, that smug smile never leaving her lips. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Sex is natural and wonderful. And I'm sure you both want to practice some of the techniques you learned in my class?"

Plum put her hands on her hips and pouted adorably. Her wide and expressive eyes, the same unusual purple as her hair, were part of a large arsenal of persuasive weapons at the charismatic woman's disposal. "Mads! I'm not as open about that stuff as you, and you know it. So while you're a guest in _my_ house, please don't tease me."

The Madame, or Mads to only her very closest friends, raised both palms in a yielding gesture. "Of course, of course. Sorry."

The distinctive creak of a rope ladder signaled an imminent arrival, and from the low tone, it was someone larger than Plum's Sloth Tribe neighbors.

"That'll be Korla, then," Mads said. Then she reclaimed the King's letter from the tabletop and held it gently between her fingers. It seemed so small in her hands, but she supposed that made sense. Small human hands had drafted it, then small human couriers and small human boats had brought it across the wide seas all the way to Typhoon. All the way to one unassuming Sloth Tribe Warrior named Plum, a lovely girl who was perhaps too charismatic for her own good.

"Sorry I'm late, Plum!" shouted a deep and powerful voice as the rope ladder's creaking came to a stop. The floor took over creaking instead as the massive woman approached.

Korla stepped into the room and the crown of her head nearly clipping the 9-foot door frame. She was wearing her typical outfit, a battle-harness of enchanted Dire Wolf fur with barely more coverage than an Attendant's lingerie, but her hands were without her loyal spiked gauntlets. The seers must have predicted a calm evening free of monster attacks, for The Heroine of Typhoon to be traveling unarmed.

Korla was equal parts imposing and unmistakable, with her wild mane of ruby-red hair and her thick tail coated in blade-deflecting scales of the same color. Her toothy smile and hulking thighs made apparent her Rex Tribe heritage. It would be easy to assume she was as brash and violent as her kin, but those close to her knew she was kind and thoughtful, and cared deeply for the entire island. Any who doubted need only watch her in battle, where she routinely risked her life for no reward but the safety of others.

The Madame made a show of looking out the window at the setting sun. "But you _aren't_ late. We agreed to meet at dusk, did we not?"

" _Mads!"_ plum hissed under her breath. "What did I say?"

"Not to tease _you_ ," Mads whispered back.

Korla had one other quality that was rare among the Rex Tribe: emotional stability. She was unbothered by challenges to her position of power, unafraid to admit she'd been wrong, and almost impossible to tease.

With no hesitation, Korla responded to The Madame's prying, "Oh hey, Mads. I was shooting for some time with Plum before we started, but I got caught up in Chieftess business." She smiled at Plum with a look in her eyes that could only be love. "Afterwards, my little fuzz?"

Plum's face turned as red as Korla's hair and Mads admitted defeat with a bosom-heaving shrug. Then the Mammoth Chieftess got down to business. "We're here to talk about this letter that Plum received, from _the_ King of Farsought, the larger of the two kingdoms on the continent of Faeros."

Korla stomped over to the table and sat down on a stool that seemed almost comically small under her considerable thighs. "Just how large is it? Are we talking 'Sabertooth tribe population' large, or 'Island of Typhoon' large?"

"Twice the area of Typhoon," Plum answered confidently, "and over _ten times_ the total population. Faeros's other kingdom, A'losh, has claimed a territory about as big as Typhoon, and likely has three times our numbers."

Korla blinked. "Humans must breed like Tyrabbits, or their land must be safe and bountiful."

"A bit of both, actually." Plum joined the others at the table, feeling out of place next to two Chieftesses and a letter from an actual king. Typhoon hadn't had a king in recorded history, or a queen for that matter, but the concept was easy to grasp: all the power of all the Chieftesses condensed into one man whose decrees were treated like the word of a god. It seemed like a terribly flawed system, but it wasn't Plum's place to talk. She was still just a Warrior.

She continued, "And it's not just humans and their variations. Both kingdoms have numerous other intelligent beings among their numbers. I met a centaur the other day, a human man with the body of a four-legged beast of burden called a 'horse' from the hips down. His ship even had some of the very same beast on board. It was very stran—"

"A centaur?!" Mads nearly shouted. "Where was this ship docked? Was he well endowed? The rumors said—"

Plum chuckled and her cheeks went a little pink. Talking about the genitals of men was awkward for her, but also rather impersonal, since she felt no attraction to them. "Well, his clothing covered that part of him, but his companions boasted that he was 'more hung than a horse', and those creatures were far more endowed than any Sloth Sire."

Mads was lost in thought and visibly salivating, so Korla took charge. "Enough of that. About this letter. Do we open it here, or do we call an intertribal Council of Chieftesses and open it there?"

Plum nodded. "It was addressed to me. It would be rude and potentially politically disastrous to defy the king's very first and very simple request."

"Agreed," Korla said. "And with two Chieftesses bearing witness, I'm sure no one will doubt what occurs here today. What do you think, Mads?"

"I agree, but I think we'll need to bring the matter to Council eventually. This is bigger than us, bigger than our three tribes." Two of the five tribes of Typhoon were unrepresented in the little meeting, or three if you only counted official Chieftessess as representation.

Plum tilted her head and playfully waved a lock of her vibrant hair side to side. "That depends on what the letter says, doesn't it? Maybe it's just a short 'thank you' for stopping those two trade guilds from killing each other."

One way that Korla was very much a Rex was her patience, or lack thereof. She grabbed the letter from between Mads' fingers and tossed it to Plum. "Go ahead. We need to learn what we're up against."

Plum swallowed hard and slipped a fingernail under the heavy water-proof canvas, then tore through the King's golden seal with one swift motion. She slowly lifted the flap and withdrew the tiny and brittle-feeling paper within. She unfolded it carefully and laid it out flat on the table.

Korla huffed and said, "I can't read their language yet. What's it say?"

"Give me a second. I'm new to it too." Plum looked over the letter several times, making sure she had all the context and the correct interpretation of the less familiar words. Then she translated aloud.

"Esteemed Warrior Plum, I hope this letter finds you well. Before I had ever learned of your existence, I already owed you a great debt. By the time word of your deeds reached me, you had saved dozens of my people's lives and forged the way for a long, peaceful, and mutually beneficial relationship."

"Relationship?" Korla interrupted. "Is this a proposition?" For a woman with five lovers, Korla could get awfully jealous sometimes.

Plum shook her head quickly. "He just means a political alliance. Now let me continue."

"Sorry."

"As thanks for your deeds, even though the immeasurable value of lives cannot be so easily repaid, I would like to formally invite you and an entourage of your choosing to visit my land and my court. You could witness the splendor of Faeros and return home with more knowledge and understanding of our ways, as well as any physical goods you desire. And it goes without saying that my people and I would learn from you as well."

"Goes without saying? Then why'd he say it?"

Plum shushed Korla, then explained, "It's a figure of speech, a way of pointing out something obvious without coming across too pushy. Let me finish."

Korla smiled despite the rebuke. She liked when Plum stood up for herself.

"I give my personal guarantee, backed by the might of the Kingdom of Farsought, that you and your companions will be safe and comfortable the entire trip, and I've already had my craftsmen begin on a carriage to accommodate even your tallest people's stature."

Plum paused her reading and elaborated, "A carriage is a wheeled compartment, pulled by beasts of burden while the occupants sit comfortably inside. Some of the first ships to Typhoon brought them along, before they realized there were few roads here and our open beaches were too soft for the narrow wheels."

"Thanks," Korla and Mads said in unison. Then Korla asked, "When he says 'tallest people', is he referring to tall Stoths, or me?"

"I believe he includes all the tribes when he says 'people', just as he includes all the races of his land when he speaks of his people."

"Got it."

Plum resumed reading, "And I realize that your land has a political power structure, with 'Chieftesses' leading the way in diplomatic matters, but your actions and way with words have proven that you deserve to be at that table, titles be damned."

Korla and Mads shared a worried look, but kept quiet.

"Perhaps you could invite along a Chieftess of each of your lovely land's tribes, to ensure that every voice is represented. I'll leave those specifics to you and yours to decide." Plum looked up and said, "It ends with a sentence in our language, in the same handwriting, 'I await your response at your leisure, Plum, and I welcome any decision you make."

"Oh, and it's signed, 'King Vandir Farsought'."

"Shit," Korla muttered. "This is bad."

"Bad?! He's so friendly, and he made it clear that I'm not being pressured." Plum looked from Korla to Mads and back, searching their faces for an explanation.

Mads nodded. "Very bad. He's basically saying that you're our island's primary representative, whether the Chieftesses like it or not. They're not going to like that. It's an attack on their hard-won titles."

Korla rose to her feet. "And that's not all. He wants an entourage of Chieftesses to go with you into hostile territory. They'd be at the mercy of those humans, and whatever other monsters dwell on Faeros. I heard most of their creatures are driven by compulsive lust. I have no desire to bed a monster, and I'm sure you don't either." She didn't bother to mention Mads, who very well might want to try it just for the new sexual experience.

Plum frowned. "But it's not hostile territory. We'd be under the King's protection. He's like a god there, so I'm sure no one would cross him. We'd all be very safe. And the Chieftess thing was just a suggestion."

Mads sighed. "A suggestion from someone with that much power is not a suggestion. You'd know this if you had gone through Chieftess training before diving into the bottomless lagoon of diplomacy."

Two could play at the metaphor game. "You're seeing parting leaves and imagining threats on the other side," Plum countered. "But I see potential and hope. This is a great opportunity to make generational allies of the strongest land in the known world."

"I don't deny that, but it's also a path riddled with pitfalls. You need to navigate very carefully, and with the backing of all the Chieftesses."

Korla shrugged and sat back down, hard enough to make the floor beneath her chair groan. "Bah, convening a Council is more trouble than it's worth. If the three of us can't agree, how could you possibly expect a hundred Chieftesses to come to a consensus?"

Plum smiled. "I'm not sure we're actually disagreeing. We just haven't had a chance to lay out our thoughts. Korla, please go first. Tell us your opinion of this letter and what we should do."

"Alright. I think the King is either dangerously naive or setting an elaborate trap. He comes across as too kind, too open, and too humble for a leader of his stature. If this is how he treats potential enemies, how is he still alive?"

"So you're saying I shouldn't visit Faeros?"

"Definitely not. You'll be at the mercy of a villain or an idiot, and either one would mean certain death."

"Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Korla." Plum's voice was level, but she couldn't hide the disappointment in her eyes, at least not from someone who knew her so intimately. "How about you, Mads?"

"I think that if you go on this trip, and that's a big 'if', it needs to be with the full support of all the tribes. We need to call an intertribal Council. But for what it's worth, I don't have as negative an opinion of the King as Korla does. I think he's making a very generous offer because he views this as a very valuable opportunity. He stands to profit greatly, especially if it wins all five tribes to the side of Farsought over his rival A'losh."

Korla grinned, showing sharp teeth from ear to ear. "Good point. We should try to contact the ruler of A'losh, to explore all our options. And maybe she'll be a stronger and more trustworthy ruler."

Plum raised one hand. "Um, the ruler of A'losh is also male, though I believe that land has been led by a queen in the past. I don't fully understand their system because A'losh traders are very reluctant to talk politics with outsiders. Apparently only their official diplomats are allowed to."

"Finally some wisdom," Mads blurted. "No offense, Plum, but trained experts should be the face of our land, not you."

"Eh, she's had more success than our diplomats, Mads. Most Chieftesses were too busy talking when they should have been taking action. Especially those Trihorn Chieftesses with their bylaws and stays of action and other mumbo-jumbo."

"Don't speak ill of a tribe that isn't represented at the table, Korla. That's something you should have learned in your years of Chieftess training."

Plum cut in, "Well, I knew that even without training. I'm not as inept as you think. My results—" she picked up the King's letter and waved it in Mads' direction "—speak for themselves."

"Just because you succeeded on your own this time doesn't mean it will continue. You need the support and guidance of all the Chieftesses."

"And how am I supposed to get _that_ when I don't even have the two of you on my side?!" Plum shouted. Her face and upper chest had flushed red and her breathing was heavy.

Korla spoke then, her voice soft. "I'm sorry, Plum, but you asked for my opinion and I gave it. So did Mads."

Plum leapt to her feet and calmly said, "Getting this upset isn't like me. I think I'm just hungry. Let's take a break while I cook some dinner." She turned away and started grabbing meat and vegetables from the frost-enchanted pantry.

Mads blinked at the sudden change of topic, but Korla smiled. She leaned close to Mads' side and whispered, "She's an amazing cook, and I really do think a break to think things over is a good idea. Oh, and we're in for a little show."

"Huh? A show?" Mads asked.

Korla crossed her arms behind her head and nodded in Plum's direction. "Just watch."

As Plum gathered ingredients for a meal plan only she knew, she started to hum an equally mysterious tune. "Hmmm, hm, haaa, hmhaa." It wasn't until an 'aye' appeared amongst the other sounds that the song became recognizable as a sea shanty of some sort, the kind the visiting sailors sang as they ate and drank on the shore each night.

And as Plum hummed, she danced. Naked as the day she was born, albeit with a bit more fur, she shook and shimmed and shuffled around the kitchen. She waved her arms rhythmically and gracefully, even as she tossed spices into her wrought-iron pot or chopped into a massive beefsteak, a gift from one of her merchant friends. Her movements were natural and fluid, but also raw and improvised. And she looked amazing doing it.

It was impossible to ignore her bare breasts, which swayed like pendulums to her wiggling rhythm, but the rest of her seven-and-a-half-foot frame was equally distracting. Her hips were wide and soft, and her perfectly pert backside shook gently with each graceful step. For Korla, who had been dreaming of Plum all day, it was almost painful to watch. The Madame happily observed and took mental notes.

"Oh, aye, she's a wonder, she's a wonder like I've never seen," Plum sang when she hit a part of the shanty she had memorized. "Wings and claws and eyes like lighthouses, a terrible sight, a streak in the night… but she's a wonder and I wonder… if she'll steal me away."

She paused her song, but not her dance, and explained, "Apparently, that song's about 'harpies', women with wings for arms who own the seas, criminal sailors that merchants both fear and lust after."

"Uh huh," Korla said, eyes affixed to Plum's ass. "Interesting."

"This next one's about undines, feminine water elementals who the sailors also lust after."

"It's a common theme for Faerosians," Mads admitted, "and one I can empathize with." She shared their connection to Eros, after all.

"Oomm, ammm, aummm," Plum hummed, lifting her arms over her head and shaking her hips as she spun in small circles. She was channeling the movement of a waterspout, which was how she imagined an undine might move.

Her audience wasn't particularly concerned with the inspiration behind her movement, because they were enraptured by the result: the slow and sensual dance of a beautiful woman in her natural element, baring it all without a pebble of shame. Every thigh-shaking step, every low dip that showed more of herself than Plum realized, and every limber and lithe sway, they all contributed to the growing aura of lust in the room. Mads, whose tribe had been touched by Eros, could literally see the tantric energy radiating from the oblivious and adorable dancer.

Korla leaned forward and licked her lips, while Mads shifted awkwardly in her seat and crossed her legs tightly.

"Hungry?" Mads whispered as quietly as possible, so as to not interrupt the show.

"You could say that," Korla answered without taking her eyes off Plum. The dance had switched to one with lots of leg movement, and more than once she had lifted one leg high enough to give a brief peek of pink. Korla didn't want to miss the next time it happened.

"Should I give you two some privacy?" Mads asked. Her voice quaked with restrained desire.

"Don't you want her, too?"

"Of course, but I'm not her lover."

"And I'm not her keeper."

"What are you two whispering about back there?" Plum asked, punctuating the question with a little wiggle of her hips. She had applied the finishing touches to her stew, so it was ready to eat any time.

"You, my fuzz. And whether you're… _available_." The tone of Korla's voice made it clear what kind of 'available' she meant.

Plum stopped dancing and looked back at the table, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "For Mads? Definitely. I love learning from her, and I can't deny I've dreamed of more direct attention than her classes offer. But what brought this on?"

Mads raised one eyebrow, incredulous. "Your sensual dancing, of course. It was as if you were trying to seduce both of us with your body, and it worked."

"Oh." Plum blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Korla grinned. "Don't be. Now, if you're in the same mood we are, put that fire out and show us to your bedroom."

Plum snuffed the fire with a stone cover, trusting the heavy iron pot to keep the stew hot until they returned to it later. "I guess I am in that mood. Dancing does that to me sometimes… and so does arguing."

Korla strode to Plum's side, crouched, and smoothly swept the smaller woman off her feet, cradling her gently in a princess carry. She placed a quick kiss on Plum's lips, then said, "Arguing does that to me too, and I was horny before I even got here. And Mads is always horny. Right, Mads?"

"Honestly, yes. It's the curse of the Mammoth Tribe. You couldn't imagine the orgies most nights on the Warrior plateau." Unlike the Sabertooth and Sloth tribes who lived high in trees, the Mammoths lived on fractured plateaus above the dry riverbeds of the western slope. The Trihorn and Rex tribes had settled on mountain cliffs, making them the only tribes with road access to their villages, even if the paths were too rocky and winding for human carriages.

Then Mads stood up and stretched, brandishing her bounteous chest contained in what could only be called lingerie. Though she had long been promoted to Chieftess, she preferred to dress in the arousing attire of an Attendant. "So where's your bedroom? And can your bed handle the three of us?"

"Oh, I guess neither of you have seen this yet," Plum said with a smile. "Everyone get clear of the center of the room, then take me over to that rope by the door."

"This one?" Korla asked, easily carrying her smaller girlfriend across the room, which had been rearranged considerably since Korla's last visit.

"Yep," Plum said. She untied a hefty rope from an iron ring, then let the rope slide through her hands, pulled upward by some counterweight.

As the rope's length disappeared through a gap in the ceiling, a huge square bed dropped down from where it had been hidden in the rafters. All four corners were clipped onto slender ropes that wouldn't be strong enough to move the bed with weight on it, but were plenty to lift it when it needed to be stored away.

"Oh. That's really impressive, Plum," Mads said. "Did you come up with it or has the Sloth Tribe been holding out on the rest of us?"

"It was actually a gift from a merchant I met on the beach, who loves pulleys and machinery. She came up here and installed it herself."

" _She_?" Korla asked, her muscles tightening.

"Up here?" Mads asked. "The Sloth Tribe let a human into the village?"

"Yes, she's a woman, but no, she isn't human. She's a faerie of some sort, about this tall, with ears like a Tyrabbit." She held her hands less than a foot apart to show how small her new friend was.

When Korla started to relax, no longer fearing the competition, Plum smiled and added, "Oh, and she has the _cutest_ little tail and butt. I want to just _eat_ her up."

Plum squawked in surprise as she was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. Before she had even landed, Korla was already shedding her own clothes, undoing knots and clasps with lust-driven speed.

Once naked, Korla was a pillar of ideal physique, with chiseled abs and taut angles that directed the eyes up to her modest yet alluring breasts or down to her meticulously-trimmed ruby red bush and sublime thighs. Red scales ran up her muscular back to her shoulders and wrapped around the side onto her breasts, stopping short of her erect nipples.

She stepped onto the bed and pushed Plum down with gentle force, then said, "If you want to eat something, eat this." She straddled Plum's head, facing away from her feet, and sat down. Plum was instantly engulfed between two rock-hard thighs and a wet place, exactly as she liked it.

Mads climbed onto the bed as well, but she left her bra and miniscule panties on. Someone else could enjoy removing them later if they wanted to get at the treasures beneath. The Madame was more about giving pleasure than receiving, anyway. She eyed Plum's spread legs before her, and the soft-fur belly and smooth tan breasts above that, and said, "May I?"

"Go for it," Korla said. Then after a muffled attempt at speech came from between her legs, she added, "Plum wants whatever you can give. She likes to be overstimulated."

"Oh _really_?" Mads licked her lips, tossed her ears and braid over her shoulder and out of the way, and set to work. Her tusks, short as they were, could still get in the way during oral sex, so she'd developed some tricks to work around them. Her main technique was to use her fingers and tongue rather than her lips: eleven dextrous and responsive tools with which to deliver pleasure.

But The Madame also knew the value of a slow buildup. After appreciating the lovely sight of Plum's plush pink folds tucked between luscious and soft thighs, she started with a gentle touch. She put two fingers against Plum's hot flesh, just firm enough not to tickle, then spread her fingers, slowly opening Plum's lips and revealing just how wet she'd become.

"Wow, she's soaked. Is this just from you carrying her? Or the banter?" She didn't bother trying to talk to Plum directly, since the submissive woman's mouth was quite occupied.

"Umm," Korla started, trying to find the words without losing the pleasurable rhythm of her grinding hips. "I think it was the dancing. She always gets wet when she dances, but she won't admit it."

A deep, sultry laugh escaped Mads' lips. "She can't admit it, because then she couldn't bear to dance naked in public anymore, and she _loves_ to do that. Don't worry, Plum. I won't tell a soul."

On that last word, Mads slipped an index finger straight into Plum's glistening cave. It slid in smoothly, with Plum's inner flesh happily parting before it. Her abs clenched adorably in response, and even Korla felt something.

"Nice. Keep doing that. It's got her twitching beneath me," Korla said, grabbing her own breasts in both hands. She ran her fingertips across her nipples, one of the most sensitive places on her otherwise hardy body, and shook with pleasure. All the while, her hips gave little bucking thrusts, grinding back and forth on Plum's captive face, leaving a trail of Korla-flavored nectar in her wake.

Mads had been asked to overstimulate, and that was just what she was going to do. When it came to pleasing women, the first step was always to get her partner good and wet, but that had been taken care of already. Next was to get a good feel for Plum's limits, and to find out what she liked.

She added another finger, then two more on her other hand, until she had the first two fingers of each hand inside, back to back. Then she spread her fingers and pulled her hands apart, slowly opening Plum's sanctum wide. Clear liquid, a honey so dense with tantric energy it caused pangs of desire deep in Mads' soul, bridged the widening gap and dribbled out the bottom in a glistening stream.

Mads noted that Plum had responded to the feel of insertion slightly more than stretching. But what about her clitoris? Mads lowered herself on her knees and elbows until she could deliver a single puckered kiss to the shining crown that presided over that luscious chasm. The instant her lips touched Plum's clit, Mads knew she'd struck a leyline. Plum quivered and squirmed, and her thighs tried to close on Mads' head.

"Excellent. Let's focus on that, shall we?" Mads whispered menacingly. She left two fingers inside, but pulled her other hand back to help wrangle Plum's legs. Then she placed her thumb over Plum's clit and pressed down. No back and forth movement, not yet; just a firm pressure that let Mads feel the blood pumping beneath the surface, rushing into the area in response to the stimulation.

"Yes, feel it, Plum. Anticipate it. What am I going to do next?"

"Hey Mads? Normally I wouldn't like you talking dirty to my girl, but it's making her squirm wonderfully, so keep it up." Korla acted tough, but she had actually reached a small orgasm once already, when Plum twitched in response to something Mads had done and accidentally nipped Korla's lower lips with her teeth. Korla liked a little bit of pain during sex, but she also needed to be in control, so that burden fell to 'accidents' or pushing her own body too far.

Korla pulled back, giving herself a brief view of Plum's gorgeous purple eyes and giving Plum a chance to breathe, then went back to grinding her clit across Plum's entire face. Sure, a lover's lips and tongue were soft and sexy, but the feeling of power when Korla soaked her partner's face from chin to forehead was intoxicating. Sometimes, with her more durable Rex and Trihorn lovers, Korla rode so hard they both felt it for days. She could hide some of the evidence with a skirt, but the red marks on her lover's face had proven difficult to explain.

When Plum suddenly started wiggling and thrashing beneath her, Korla thought she needed to give Plum more air, then she recognized it for what it was: a very powerful orgasm. She shot a look over her shoulder and found Mads lapping frantically at Plum's clit with who knew how many fingers stuck inside. Her other hand roamed Plum's upper body, grasping and tugging at a nipple here, massaging a breast there, and constantly finding a new weak point to attack. Each hand and finger moved purposefully and independently, showing off The Madame's true sexual power. Even at a glance, Korla could see that Mads' actions would feel like two or even three individuals teaming up on Plum. When you included Korla's face-grinding domination, it was no wonder Plum came so hard.

Korla pulled back again to give Plum some air, and to get a look at that lovely sex-flushed face. She spread her thighs, reached down between them, and grabbed Plum's face with both hands. Then she used her thumbs to wipe slick moisture from around her lover's eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Plum. I love you so much. I only want you to be safe, but if you really want to go to Faeros, I won't stop you. I'll come along, if you'll have me."

Plum wasn't coherent enough to respond, especially since Mads hadn't let up one bit with the sensory assault, but the thankful look in her eyes was enough to know.

Feeling reinvigorated, Korla planted her hands on the bed above Plum's head and started grinding again, faster than before and covering more distance. She could feel when her tender lips dragged lightly against Plum's closed teeth, and when her clit bumped against Plum's cute button nose. Almost immediately, Korla felt the rising heat in her core of an approaching orgasm, a buzzing energy like what she imagined magic might feel like to people with the gift to control it.

"I'm coming, Plum. I'm coming just for you!" she roared at the ceiling, loud enough that every neighbor for three trees in every direction had surely heard.

Later, Plum would smack Korla for embarrassing her like that, but in that moment, while she was feeling equal parts overwhelmed and loved, Plum had never been happier. Then two very powerful thighs clamped onto her ears so hard it hurt, and she reflexively did the same to Mads. Mads was protected by her tusks, which meant yet another source of discomfort for poor Plum. The jabbing pressure helped to bring her back down from her orgasmic cloud.

She slapped at Korla's thigh with one hand until the vice loosened. She sucked in a deep breath at her first opportunity, then smiled up at Korla, enjoying the view of firm abs, heaving breasts, and Korla's sweat-glistening face. "Thank you, Korla, for supporting me." Then she raised her voice slightly and said, "And thank you too, Mads. I think that was the strongest orgasm I've ever had."

Mads circled the bed, bringing her massive bra into Plum's view, then she said, "You're very welcome, and there's more where that came from." Then a low rumble echoed from within her soft-yet-slender belly. "After we get some food."

Plum stifled a yawn and said, "I'm more tired than hungry. Please help yourselves while I… take a little… nap…" By the time she finished the sentence, she was already fast asleep, her bare chest rising and falling softly. Members of the Sloth Tribe slept more than others, often through the entire day, and it seemed they were able to fall asleep faster too.

Korla carefully crawled off of Plum, then used a dry corner of the bedsheets to wipe the lingering moisture from Plum's sleeping face. It was a heartfelt gesture, but it would take a lot more than that to clean up the mess the three women had made. Hopefully Plum had another set of sheets she could swap in.

After that, Korla and Mads got washed up and dressed, then directed their attention to Plum's stew, which was still warm in the big cookpot. Korla served the meal, after figuring out where Plum kept her dishes, then sat down at the table across from Mads.

She took one bite and nearly came again from the pleasure. "What the—? How?! Is it the afterglow, or is Plum just that good a cook?"

Mads chuckled quietly. She had already experienced the astoundingly delicious flavor and had more time to recover from the shock. "A bit of both, I'm sure."

Korla was already several spoons deeper in the stew, but she nodded in agreement as she ate. Then, when she finally paused long enough to speak, she said, "So, about that letter… has your opinion changed at all?"

Mads sipped daintily from her spoon, then said, "I believe it has. Like your exuberant orgasm-induced shout earlier, sometimes it's best to just do what you need and ask forgiveness later."

Feeling embarrassed for the first time in memory, Korla said, "Uh, so what does that mean for the letter?"

A mischievous smile blossomed across The Madame's face. "I think we should do as the King suggested: gather a Chieftess from each tribe and visit his kingdom. And if the rest of the Chieftesses don't like it, I'm sure Plum can win them over somehow. When we get back."

"You're saying we'd leave without their permission?"

"No," Mads said simply, "we'd leave without their _knowledge_. We'll send a letter to inform them of where we went, perhaps one with a nice gold King's seal on it. Let _them_ argue about what to do with it."

Korla's smile was toothy and terrifying. "I like your style, Mads. I think we'll get along fine during our trip to Faeros."


	2. Diplomatic Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving an invitation from the King of the distant land of Farsought, the charismatic but inexperienced Plum traveled with a group of Chieftesses and Warriors to see his kingdom and form diplomatic ties with his people. And form some more intimate ties as well...

It was a momentous occasion: the first official delegation of representatives from Typhoon had arrived on the shores of Faeros. Their party was only ten women strong, but each of them was nearly twice the size of a human woman, and more than twice as strong. All five tribes were represented, each boasting very distinctive features.

The Rex Tribe women had scaled tails, sharp teeth, and massive, muscular thighs. The Trihorns had similar tails, thick scales covering their backs and limbs, and of course three distinctive horns upon their foreheads. The Sabertooth women had catlike ears and tails, plus their namesake teeth, over four inches long. The Sloths had fur like the Sabertooths, but it covered most of their bodies, and their ears were small and round. And the single Mammoth representative had short tusks along her jaw and large, floppy ears.

After a two-week journey, they arrived in a port city called Spirios. The marble-and-wood city sat on the white-sand shores just west of the border of A'losh and a day's sailing southeast of Carthaz, the island metropolis of the Litorea people. It was a place ill-suited to be a diplomat's first impression. First, it was a grungy and dubious town, with so many harpies around that it was obvious that pirates had a grip on the city's politics. Additionally, Spirios was outside the jurisdiction of either of the royal kingdoms that claimed the majority of Faeros within their dominions.

Thus, the Royal Knight entourage that awaited the delegation at the docks made sure to usher them out of town quickly. But they weren't quick enough to avoid the curious eyes of humans, harpies, and a half dozen other species, and soon gossip about the boat-load of giant women and their Royal Knight escort was flowing outward from Spirios via wing, hoof, and magic. It wasn't ideal for a foreign delegation's presence to be so widely known, but there was little helping it. The King of Farsought had promised free exploration and enjoyment of his lands, and that couldn't be done under cover and disguise.

"This uh, _tent_ , shall be yours for the evening, Plum." The uniformed captain gestured at the sprawling canvas-covered pavilion that would be the ten women's inn for the night. It was a bit grandiose for a traveling delegation, but it was the only conjured building he could summon that would fit nearly-9-foot-tall guests comfortably. "I'll have four knights on guard at all times, and the rest of my unit is available in an instant if trouble arrives in the night."

"Thank you very much, Captain," the purple-haired and brown-furred woman responded. As a member of the Sloth tribe, Plum stood only seven-and-a-half feet tall, but she still towered over the Captain. As a nudist, she found the sky-blue dress she'd been gifted upon arrival to be mildly annoying, despite its fine-quality silk construction. And as a Warrior rather than a Chieftess, she felt a bit uncomfortable being treated like the leader of the delegation. But Plum had been the one invited by King Vandir Farsought, so she was the one the Royal Knights deferred to.

She started to enter the massive tent, then turned back and added, "Is it alright if we sleep in late in the morning? We're all rather exhausted from the two-week journey, and I at least did not sleep well on the sea."

"Of course. We leave on your schedule, ma'am."

Plum smiled, and the natural kindness in the expression tugged at the Captain's heart. It had already been his sworn duty to protect this woman and her companions, but now it was his own personal aspiration. She was just too precious for anything less.

Less than an hour later, a commotion had started at the delegation's tent. The four knights on duty shifted listlessly, and several more came to see what was going on. Before long, nearly a dozen men and women were gathered by the tent, whispering and giggling to themselves quietly.

"Shit, it's the Captain," a man hissed.

"Damn right it's the Captain," he replied as he approached, having heard the whisper with the assistance of a listening spell. "Now what in the Six is going on here?"

All at once, some of the gathered knights started babbling, trying to explain their actions in the most flattering way possible.

"Uh, we heard a disturbance and came to, uh, help."

"I came to see if the women needed help with something of a feminine nature."

"I heard a scream."

"We thought there was an attack. Yeah."

The Captain ignored them and directed his listening magic toward the tent instead. What he heard sent his heart racing and his ears glowing. From within the tent came the undeniable sounds of sex, loud and diverse, and apparently involving all ten Typhoon women. Mixed in with the moans and grunts were caring whispers and spoken words, and the Captain even picked out Plum's voice.

He immediately turned to the four Knights on duty, the only ones that should have been there in the first place. "Are any of our men or women in there?"

"No sir," a blonde-haired Knight answered. "It's just the delegation inside."

"See to it that it stays that way." Then the Captain cast a sound-dampening spell over the entire tent. He configured it so a proper shout or scream would still cut through, but the sounds of the delegation's orgy would not.

He faced the gathered soldiers, who stood at attention but shuffled and fidgeted anxiously, awaiting their punishment. He firmly said, "You grew up on Faeros. I know you've all overheard sex before, and those times it wasn't the King's guests. Now stop being creeps and get back to your assigned posts."

While the Knights were forming a lewd impression of the giant women, the women formed their own impression of the continent of Faeros. After all, spontaneous orgies were not a normal event for them, at least not outside of the Mammoth Tribe. The Madame, the delegation's Mammoth Tribe Chieftess and resident sex expert, explained that the continent of Faeros was dense with tantric energy, also called Tantra, and it seemed it could have quite the impact on new arrivals who weren't yet used to it. It tugged at their minds and senses, made lewd thoughts jump to mind at the slightest provocation, and tempted them constantly.

A bit of sex seemed like a great way to get their sea-legs, so to speak, and to strengthen their bonds. The ten women would be stuck together for the next four weeks plus the return trip, and stressful encounters were sure to test their relationships. Besides, the ten-woman orgy wasn't even that far from normal: Korla, the Rex Tribe Chieftess, regularly slept with six of the other nine women individually, since she'd chosen her personal Warrior harem as guards for the journey and had grown close with The Madame, or Mads to her friends.

The other three Chieftesses were slow to warm to the idea, but the influence of Eros upon the land was a powerful temptation. They soon joined in and enjoyed themselves. In fact, it was Ambra, the shy and straight-laced Trihorn Chieftess, who coined a phrase from the experience, one that eventually became well known throughout the world: "When in Faeros, do as the Faerosians do."

* * *

The second day of the visit consisted entirely of uneventful travel by custom-made carriage through the fringe territories of the Kingdom of Farsought. Farms and fields stretched all the way to the horizon in every direction. It was the largest open plain the Typhoon women had ever seen, and a far cry from the dense jungles they were used to. But its novelty soon wore off, and the delegation longed for new scenery.

Late in the evening on the third day, they arrived in the capital city, Farsought. Instantly, all the women were glued to the carriage windows, taking in the spectacle around them. Towering stone buildings, man-made canals, and an unbelievable density of people captured their attention as they made their way toward the center of the city. Toward the castle.

If the buildings of the city were impressive, the castle was shocking. It stretched toward the sky like a grove of towerwood trees, its tallest spires reaching heights of over 30 stories. It was equally sprawling, covering the area of a small village with three to five floors of municipal and living spaces. Every woman in the delegation was given her own room in the castle's expansive guest quarters, and each room had been outfitted with an extra-large bed to accommodate the guest's height.

After a blissful night's sleep in royal comfort, the real work began. The delegation met with the King of Farsought himself, King Vandir, along with dozens of his advisors and even his daughter Princess Lucidity. They kept things simple, talking about the journey so far and getting to know each other better. There was no need to discuss political matters so early in the visit.

Plum hit it off particularly well with Princess Lucidity, who even asked Plum to call her just 'Luci'. They spent most of dinner deep in conversation, neglecting the other diplomats and nobles who wanted to speak with the famous Plum. Thankfully, the actual Chieftesses were happy to step up and represent their land and tribes.

The next morning after a feast of a breakfast, Plum pulled Mads into her quarters. Once the door was securely locked, Plum said, "I'm asking for your opinion as a Chieftess, _not_ as a sexual master."

Mads blinked. "Okay…"

There was a long pause, then Plum suddenly blurted, "Without harming the diplomatic relationship between Faeros and Typhoon, is there any way I can sleep with the Princess?"

Mads coughed in surprise, then said, "Oh Ancestors… I saw you flirting with her, but you're actually serious about that?"

Plum nodded, her expression one of complete helplessness. "I think I'm in love. I mean, I love you and Korla, but this is _so much stronger_. I want her so bad it hurts my heart. I need to hold her and protect her, kiss her and ravage her."

Mads raised both hands in a 'hold on' gesture. "Well, first of all, at least some of what you're feeling is lust. Don't let it get away with you, darling. I recommend you burn that off with Korla or alone in your quarters, then think about this with a clear head."

"I did that. Both, actually. And the whole time I couldn't get Luci's golden hair out of my head, her beautiful eyes— Did you know her right eye is slightly more blue than her left? She said her mom had the same eyes. I wish I could swim in them, dive deeply into those pools of moonlight and warmth."

Mads sighed. "Okay, fine. It's not _all_ lust, but you need to be impossibly careful here. I don't need to tell you how bad it would be to sour our relationship with Farsought, especially so early in the trip."

"I understand. That's why I came to you, Mads."

Mads slapped Plum on the butt, which was actually covered for once. She'd been wearing the sky-blue silk dress gifted by the King. He had even sent a tailor with mage skills to size it for her the moment she arrived. Either the King or the tailor knew that Plum wouldn't wear underwear, so they didn't include any and the dress was made to work without a bra. Triple-layered cloth across the nipples did a decent job of hiding them even when erect.

Then Mads said, "I'll talk to her and the King before the end of our trip. I get the feeling that frank discussion of sex is the way to go in this land."

* * *

Over the next few days, Mads began acting somewhat secretive. She said she had secured a very important meeting, but she wouldn't say exactly who it was with. All she would say was that they were very good allies to win over.

The potential ally rented out an entire inn near the edge of the capital and the delegation arrived to find a feast awaiting them in the common room. As the ten women settled in and their Royal Knight escort waited outside, Mads finally started to explain. "I'm sure you've at least heard of the Church of Love?"

Everyone nodded, and Ambra of the Trihorn Tribe blushed brightly. They had all heard of it, and they knew it was far closer to a free-loving sex cult than an actual church.

"They aren't a traditional organization and don't have a power hierarchy, but I've arranged a diplomatic meeting with some of their most influential members. The meeting will have two parts, and the first is a short meeting over wine and delicacies. Please get dressed in your finest."

"And the second part?" Korla asked, suspecting that something was up.

"A completely optional event. Do not participate unless you truly want to. Do not force yourself."

"Spit it out already," hissed Bladen, the Sabertooth Chieftess. She was known for her fiery attitude and short patience. "What is it? An orgy or something?"

"Yes, precisely. In addition to their diplomats taking part, some of their finest courtesans will be available. Many species will be represented, including some that are more our… size." The Madame punctuated that last bit by shifting uncomfortably on her tiny human-sized chair.

She continued, "We'll have the entire dining hall and the inn's bedrooms available to us, but I'm asking that you only do what you're comfortable with. There's zero pressure here, it's just a gift from a potential ally."

As the women nodded in agreement, most looking a bit shy about the coming event, Mads added, "Sorry for dropping this on you suddenly, but the Church of Love has a… _tense_ relationship with local law enforcement."

The Sloth Chieftess, a green-haired druid named Hallo, piped in, "Will that cause trouble with our Royal Knight escort?" The Knights in question were standing guard just outside the inn, on the other side of another sound-dampening spell.

"No, I got the Captain's approval. The Royal Knights and Farsought Royalty are more open-minded about the Church than local law enforcers. But of course, it's the locals who have to clean up the Church's aftermath."

Plum gasped. "Aftermath? What have you gotten us into?"

Mads grinned from tusk to tusk. "Something spectacular."

* * *

The meeting was a pretty standard diplomatic engagement, except for the Church representatives' dress. While some of the members wore elegant suits or dresses, about half wore sheer or miniscule clothing that covered less than most lingerie. The Church worshipped the God of Lust, Eros, and they weren't shy about showing it.

Before introductions, since most of the Typhoon delegation wasn't fluent in Faerosian, one of the Church mages cast a language translation spell on the inn. It would last the entire evening, as long as they kept it supplied with Tantra, a task that proved quite trivial.

At first it looked like Plum was infatuated with a slender and underdressed elf woman, staring at her from afar, but Plum was actually just zoning out and imagining Princess Luci in the same silk straps and jewelry. Korla and the Rex warrior were also chatting her up, but their attraction was mostly to her sparkling adornments. At one point she purposely flashed the gem-encrusted pasties she was wearing under her miniscule top and the Rex warrior Mastia went wild for them.

"I- I've never seen anything so beautiful, so erotic. Is it a piercing? Do they make those in my size? My nipples are, uh, a lot bigger than yours."

The elf giggled and said, "These are not piercings, but such a variety does exist, and those are much more… stable. And yes, they can be made in your size. I'll send along the contact information for the jeweler who made them for me."

Korla lifted her own necklace with one finger, its nail trimmed short and round. The necklace consisted of a fine gold chain supporting four separate emeralds suspended in a triangle that pointed down into her cleavage. "This necklace was a gift from a friend over five years ago, and it supposedly originated from Faeros," she explained. "Could your jeweler make matching earrings for me?"

"May I?" the elf asked, then she leaned close and held the necklace. Her hand rested casually against Korla's chest and it was so tiny compared to the Rex Chieftess's bulk. After a moment, she said, "This is indeed from Faeros, and I believe I know the manufacturer."

Korla blinked. "Uh, I thought there was a translation spell in effect, but I didn't understand that last word."

"Ahh, it must be a word without an equivalent concept in your land. A manufacturer is a business that creates items on a large scale, selling many identical copies every day. Some use magic to copy a handmade original, and others use machines and molds to standardize the normal crafting process."

Mastia nodded along, already thinking through the implications of such technology, "I suppose that makes sense for a land as densely populated as this one. It would be more efficient to create things that way."

Korla was still focused on her own necklace. "So that means many Faerosian women are wearing this very necklace right now?"

"Yes, but none wear it as well as you. When I've seen that necklace on smaller women, it was overlarge and garish, drawing too much attention away from its wearer. But on you, it accents your beauty, contrasts with your intensity, and draws the eye to _you_ rather than itself."

Korla felt her attraction for this strange little woman grow, and she was struck by a pang of desire, wanting to push her down and dominate her. The jewelry and pasties would stay on, of course.

The elf shivered at the wave of Tantra pouring from Korla, but continued calmly, "Additionally, I believe that they also manufactured a line of matching earrings. It should be trivial to find a pair tomorrow morning in the bazaar."

Meanwhile, Mads was talking to someone who hadn't been present when the Church group first introduced themselves. It was a man with dark red skin and two curved black horns jutting from his forehead. Upon closer look, he had the same face as a human man who had introduced himself earlier as Kierento.

"And you're sure your delegation will be unbothered by my true appearance? Demons are reviled in some cultures."

Mads smiled and nodded calmly. "I'm quite sure. There are no demons on Typhoon so we have no preconceptions, and every one we've met on this journey has been delightful and kind."

"You've met more than just me?"

"Oh yes, but I believe they were unaware that I knew their true nature. Like you, they were disguised, but I could sense that something was amiss. After the fourth one I encountered, a young woman in the castle's Royal Knights, I realized why only I seemed to be aware: Like you, I am touched by Eros. The entire Mammoth Tribe was blessed, but I have a stronger connection than most. I can see the flow of Tantra, who consumes and who produces, and what it's used for."

The man's eyes went wide and he stammered, "I can't even see it in that much detail. Only Elder Demons can… So what are your kin able to sense, if they are not as adept as you?" He glanced around, looking for another woman with tusks and large ears, but saw none.

"Alas, I'm the only Mammoth on this journey. Korla invited a girlfriend, but she was too busy training for her Proving. It's a very arduous event, and she needed to build up her stamina." Mads shrugged, looking a bit disappointed. "And I don't know exactly what the other Mammoths can see. They can all sense ambient Tantra and the mages can direct it, but that's all I know for sure."

"Ahh, okay. Then your tribe are much like the succubi and incubi of Faeros. We are all blessed with basic Tantric Magic, and some can ascend to a far more impressive level." He paused in thought for a long moment, then said, "May I arrange a meeting between you and my superior? I'm sure she would love to talk tantric theory with you. …And exchange techniques if you're open to feminine intimacy."

Mads smiled widely. "The vast majority of my people's intimacy is of the feminine variety. Fewer than one in five hundred births on Typhoon are male."

"And is that why two of your young Warriors are drooling over me?"

Mads nodded in confirmation. "Please treat them well. They've likely never witnessed a man's naked glory, and it may be some time before they earn the rank of Attendant and are able to bed men of their own kind. Give them a good memory, something to aim for."

* * *

"Where's Plum?" Korla asked as the real festivities started. The innkeeper had moved all the tables and chairs to the edge of the common room, then brought out a half-dozen mattresses from unoccupied bedrooms. People were stripping, some erotically, some frantically.

Mads answered, "She's got something on her mind, and you know how she likes to sleep on her problems. After a nap to think it through, she'll likely join us."

"Got it," Korla said. With her concern about her friend quelled, she got right to work. She turned away from Mads and approached the slender elf woman from earlier. Her name was Sandra, but that was short for something with nearly a dozen syllables that Korla couldn't recall, and wasn't expected to.

Korla loomed high over the woman. "If you're a user of this land's magic, I'm sure you already sensed how I feel."

Sandra smiled. "That's true."

Korla knelt, briefly pressed her forehead to her knee, then looked up at Sandra. For a second, the elf mistook it for a marriage proposal and tensed, but she relaxed as Korla said, "For tonight, may I have you? May I pleasure you and take pleasure from you? I tend to be rough, but I will hold back to your preferences."

Sandra pressed her fingertips into a downward triangle over her lower abdomen and quickly whispered something to herself: a tantric spell. The translation spell attempted to convert the strange language and Korla heard snippets of words like 'protect', 'passion', and 'accommodate'. When she finished her spell, she lowered her hands and said, "For tonight, my body can take anything you give. No need to hold back." She grinned at Korla and winked. "I happen to like it rough."

Korla responded by grabbing Sandra around the waist with both hands and tossing her over her shoulder. She gave the elf's exposed buttocks a predatory bite, testing her spell, and was happy to find that it had a natural give but was completely unharmed.

She carried Sandra to the centermost mattress and tossed her down onto it. "I assume your spell doesn't protect your lovely gossamer clothes. Take them off, but keep all the jewelry and pasties on."

Sandra undressed with both elegance and speed, and the instant the last bit of sheer silk was set aside, Korla pounced, jaws wide and eyes gleaming with lust. Sandra was so small beneath her, so fragile looking, so painfully desirable. Korla started with her tongue on Sandra's delicate neck and collarbones, sampling this exotic creature, committing the taste and texture of her skin to memory.

She was wearing a mild perfume of sweet wildflowers, but beneath that was the electric tang of mana-infused elven sweat. Like a spark, it ignited a fire in Korla's loins. She straddled the smaller woman, grabbed deeply into her golden blonde hair with one hand, and used the other to pull off her own panties, already soaked with glistening fluid. Then she wrapped her fingers all the way around Sandra's slender thigh and roughly maneuvered the elf into place against her own groin.

Sandra was flexible, especially with her protection spell, and soon her right leg was pinned against her own shoulder, her foot and hair grasped within the same massive hand. Her other leg was trapped between Korla's massive and powerful thighs, locking their lower lips together in a kiss so tight it hurt a little even through the protective magic.

Then Korla started to grind. Back and forth, with an amount of downward force more suited for battle than for intimacy. But Sandra was loving it, and her body provided plenty of lubrication as lip met lip, and clit collided with clit.

To Korla, there was nothing else in the world. The room dropped away, her nearby girlfriends faded from thought, and satisfaction filled the gap. Every frustration she'd experienced on this trip, every collision with a low door frame or chandelier, every bigoted glance from white-robed clergy, and every night spent awake and paranoid of this foreign land's dangers… they were all crushed beneath her, compressed to annihilation between Korla's hammer and Sandra's matching anvil.

Sandra came first. She'd been blindsided by Korla's ferocity, stunned by the power of her natural muscles and the fury in her heart. Sanda almost regretted saying there was no need to hold back. Almost. And when she reached climax and the pure pleasure of orgasm filled her mind and saturated her body in Tantric energy, the ravaging didn't so much as slow.

Korla grabbed at Sandra's perky breasts, easily engulfing both within the span of her large fingers, and pressed into their tender and giving flesh. As her fingertips slid across sweat-slicked skin and collided with bejeweled nipples, her inner fire was stoked even further. But full release, the orgasm her body craved and demanded, remained frustratingly out of reach.

"Not enough," she cursed, her voice breathy and low.

Sanda's ecstasy-dilated eyes stared up in disbelief, blinking away the sweat drops that rained upon her face from the red-haired amazon above her. She had never seen anyone fuck so hard and so wildly and still fail to find release. There was only one answer: Korla was still holding back. Some part of her mind or muscle memory, trained upon the mighty women of her land and her harem, was restraining her when faced with this slender elven maiden.

"I said not… to hold back," Sandra spat between breath-taking collisions. "Do what you must… to come."

Suddenly, the world turned upside down. Sandra found herself held in the air by a mighty fist around one leg. Then just as quickly, she was flipped around and set down on her back, but now her head was beneath Korla's crouching silhouette. She caught a glimpse of a gloriously wet and swollen pussy and a bright red bush, and she was given a simple, emphatic command.

"Your only job is to breathe. Kick your legs if you can't."

Then she saw only darkness, and felt only hot moisture. She almost giggled at the thought that she'd been reduced to a sex toy, and she almost laughed aloud when she realized how much she liked it. But there was no time for either reaction. Crushing wet friction pressed from jaw to forehead and back again, leaving precious tiny windows during which she had to gasp in Korla-scented air.

And Sandra definitely lacked the means to notice the audience that had gathered, pausing their own lovemaking to watch Korla's. The sex was so intense and impressive that Mads was literally taking notes. Some of Korla's girlfriends looked jealous, or perhaps it was just envy and longing to be in Sandra's position.

But by the time Korla finally came, several furious minutes later, the novelty of the spectacle had faded and the spectators' bodies had started to ache in sympathy for Sandra's, so they returned to their own lovemaking. Mads paired with a male centaur like she'd been craving since even before the King's invitation to Faeros, and Plum remained upstairs in a private room, dreaming of her crush.

* * *

After her hard-fought orgasm, Korla's stress vanished like fog on a summer morning. She felt better than she had in months, free and clear-headed and comfortable. And she also felt love warming her from within. Love for her homeland, now so far away. Love for her Tribe and the rest of the people of Typhoon. And love for her girlfriends, who she'd rudely ignored during her brief entanglement with Sandra.

So Korla thanked the dazed elf for the wonderful time, then gathered four Warriors into a naked hug. "I'm sorry for neglecting you girls. I guess I got caught up in the moment."

The women all looked up at Korla and they all smiled. "Don't be sorry," said the shortest one, a brunette Sabertooth named Sugi. "We enjoyed the show, and we got some ideas from it."

"R-really?" Korla asked cautiously. She normally interacted with her girlfriends individually, carving time from her busy schedule to connect with them one-on-one. They had never worked together like this before.

"Really," said Mastia, the black-haired Rex Warrior who shared Korla's love of jewelry. She grabbed the slightly taller Korla around the shoulders and steered her toward an empty bed. "We're going to ride you", she added with a wink.

"All of us," Sugi chipped in.

"All at once," the two Trihorn girls Sera and Shelti said in perfect unison. They were both blonde and looked similar enough to be sisters, but it was hard to know for sure with the communal way the tribes raised children. They were probably half-sisters at the very least, but that wasn't uncommon with so few Sires around.

Mastia shrugged. "Well, except for Plum, who's still off by herself. Dreaming of the Princess, no doubt."

Then, before Korla could get a word in edgewise, she was tackled to the bed by four eager women. They pinned her by sitting on her legs and one arm, and then Sugi sat right down on her face. And then they did what they promised, and rode her until each and every one of them was satisfied.

Not far away, Ambra the Trihorn chieftess paid no attention to Korla's escapades. Her attention was elsewhere, on Mads and her latest partner, a cervine centaur woman with gorgeous sunset-orange hair that flowed nearly to the floor. Or it would if she was standing, but she was on her side with her face between Mads' legs, and Mads was on her side, gently stroking the woman's pussy with one hand. The position was astoundingly casual, with both women just relaxing and enjoying a lull between more energetic romps with other members of the ongoing orgy.

"When in Faeros…" the Ambra muttered, working up her courage. She brushed her short cyan hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her horns, then she approached them. "Um, I'm so sorry to interrupt you, Mads and miss centaur, but…"

"It's no bother, Ambra, " Mads said, but she didn't stop stroking. Only Mads could hold a conversation so calmly while both giving and receiving sexual pleasure. "Would you like to join us?"

Ambra did. In the past, she had always been interested in men, but Faeros had opened her eyes, and now she was curious. She nodded, admitting her new interest for the first time, and immediately felt a shiver run through her body. "I've only been with men before. But now I want to feel the touch of an experienced woman."

She was a Chieftess, a position earned only through complete dedication, intense training, and years of mating and bearing children for the Trihorn tribe. She was expected to be a leader and expert in all things, but she was out of her element now. She felt like a young Warrior again, dreaming of the sexual wonders that awaited her on the other side of her Proving. Her heart fluttered just as it had when her first Sire chose her, the same gentle and handsome Sire she'd hoped for. It was a wonderful feeling, and she wanted more.

The centaur withdrew from between The Madame's silky thighs and smiled up at Ambra. "How about _two_ experienced women? I'm a professional courtesan, dedicated entirely to female pleasure."

Ambra's face flushed red and she flashed an awkward but very enthusiastic smile. "Yes, please."

* * *

The meeting between the Church of Love and the Typhoon delegation had been enlightening, and by the end of the very long night, everyone had discovered new things both mundane and monumental.

The Church of Love learned that the Tribes of Typhoon had unfathomable stamina, the kind that required magical assistance to keep up with. It also became clear that the two groups would make excellent allies: beyond their obvious sexual compatibility, they honored the same values of peace, honor, openness, and interdependence. The five Tribes were rivals and allies competing towards the same goals, and the Church's ambassadors wanted nothing more than to join that dynamic as remote friends and confidants.

The Chieftesses shared that desire. While still naked and smelling of sweat and sex, all five Chieftesses signed a treaty establishing the Tribes of Typhoon and the Church of Love as official allies. The arrangement was sure to cause complications with other political entities in the future, especially the bigoted Citadel of Holy Light, but that was no real loss.

Individual women had their own learning moments as well. Korla was surprised but not bothered to hear that Plum had fallen for the Princess of Farsought. She had always encouraged her girlfriends to find meaningful relationships elsewhere and she supported their new romances even if it did hurt a little to let go. Korla was also forced to acknowledge her blossoming interest in human-sized women, for delicate flowers smaller than any warrior of Typhoon. And now she was on a continent filled with them. The rest of the trip would prove difficult as she couldn't help but mentally undress every attractive passerby. She imagined only jewelry upon their slender bodies, and fantasized about pressing them beneath her or holding them to her lips and drinking them like a glass of divine wine.

And Plum, who had remained in her room and never joined the festivities, learned that no amount of self love, no amount of lurid fantasy and imagined sexual acts, could quench the flame in her heart for Princess Lucidity. There was no doubt now: she needed to confess her feelings. Even if it went nowhere, even if it caused complications for the diplomatic mission.

She _had_ to confess. Denying the need any further was impossible, so she set to work writing a letter not unlike the one that brought her to this foreign land; an invitation. But she didn't limit herself to formal speech like the King had. She poured her heart into it, her blossoming love for Princess Luci. She was sure her feelings would come through, and she confidently hoped that they would be reciprocated. After all, Plum was famous for her way with words.


	3. Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Plum confessed her love to Princess Lucidity in a heartfelt letter, their relationship moved forward in secret. Or so they thought. In reality, powerful players were aware and invested in their romance, and its impact on the lands of Typhoon and Farsought.

Princess Lucidity, the eldest child of King Vandir and the late Queen Ellinia of Farsought, moved with grace and dignity through the bustling banquet hall. She stood out among the other nobility in an elegant evening gown that accentuated her shapely slenderness. It was pale lilac in color and ankle-length, with a deep plunging neckline that revealed an expanse of sun-speckled skin. Her hair was the golden color of birchwood illuminated by the sunset, and it spilled over her shoulders in flowing waves that nestled into the nook of her moderate cleavage.

She glanced around the room, taking note of which nobles had decided to attend this evening's festivities, and who they chose to mingle with. Her eyes were bright and alert, full of intelligence and always observant, and they were the blue-green color of a tropical lagoon. Her right eye was a deeper blue than the left, but very few people had ever noticed that fact.

Plum had noticed her unique eyes almost immediately. That was one of the many things Lucidity liked about that exotic Sloth-tribe diplomat. On the night of their first meeting, the two women had hit it off immediately and spent the entire dinner talking only to each other. Since then, they'd shared nearly a dozen meals and exchanged numerous rambling letters. In just a couple short weeks, they'd become fast friends.

Lucidity was pulled from her thoughts by a white-gloved and deeply bowing servant offering her an envelope. She recognized the script upon its surface, the efficient yet beautiful curve of each letter.

_That's from Plum!_

"Thank you," Princess Lucidity said as she took the envelope. Unlike Plum's previous casual correspondence, this one had been sealed with wax and a thumbprint. She marveled at the difference in scale between her own thumb and the print, still struggling to grasp the true size of the people of the far off land of Typhoon. Plum stood nearly seven feet tall, but that was actually small by Typhoon standards.

The servant bowed and left the room, but not before numerous nobles had taken note of the exchange. Caelin Delrose and his fiancé, always the most brazen members of the royal court, even approached to try to catch a better view of the plain envelope and the writing on its surface.

With a swift motion of the dagger-like letter opener that she always kept on hand for business and self-defense, Lucidity cut the wax seal. She partially withdrew the parchment inside, scanned the first few lines in an instant, then quickly returned it to the envelope. Her cheeks took on a rosy hue and her breath quickened. Then she noticed all the people watching her.

"Please excuse me," she announced, her voice wavering and her face flashing red. Then she turned and left, weaving between puzzled nobles and tables of appetizers.

Her private quarters were a five-minute walk away, and her mind raced the entire time. _Is this letter what I think it is? Would Plum be so forward? Does she not know the consequences… Or does she not care?_

The answers to her questions were buried within the letter she clutched to her breast, and she quickened her pace toward her quarters, both eager and apprehensive to read the rest. When she arrived, she sent her attendants away and closed every door and curtain, then finally sat down on her bed and read Plum's note. Then she read the whole thing again in disbelief, and again in shock, and again and again in a giddy sort of glee.

Lucidity didn't sleep that night. Once she knew the entire letter by heart, every romantic or indecent word echoing in her head, she began to pen her response. She briefly considered using unmarked stationery to reduce the risk of public scandal if the letter was intercepted, but Plum's bared heart deserved equal honesty in return; Lucidity used her own personal stationery, marked with an enchantment that prevented alterations by anyone other than the Princess herself. Her political advisors would be aghast, of course, but using identifiable paper for secret correspondence would have been the least of their concerns with the Princess's salacious response.

* * *

Plum had been staying in the castle's guest quarters, along with the rest of her diplomatic entourage. She didn't feel comfortable calling the mission hers, since she was just a lowly Warrior, and not even on the track to become a Chieftess, but she _had_ been the one directly invited by the King. Her deeds and reputation preceded her, and she would be foolish to deny the opportunities opened as a result.

Her days on Faeros were filled with meetings with diplomats and visits to important facilities. The way Farsought had integrated magic with nearly every aspect of the city's infrastructure astounded the visitors from Typhoon; magic cleaned Farsought's water, fueled their forges, and even cooled their food stores.

But Plum was forced to admit that she was too distracted to be properly impressed. Princess Lucidity was always on her mind.

_Did she get my letter? Will she write a reply? Could her response be waiting in my quarters right now? Or will I return to the castle to find guards there, waiting to arrest me for offending royalty?_

Plum followed her towering companions in a daze, barely paying attention to the bustling city streets and the gawking people the massive women passed on their way to the next destination.

Despite all that doubt, she still held out hope. She and the Princess had made a connection, a true friendship. In just a couple weeks, she and Lucidity, or Luci to her closest friends, had grown as close as kin.

_And I know there's something else there too, something deeper than friendship or family. I love Luci, and I'm pretty sure that—_

"Message for a Miss Plum!" shouted a small voice from somewhere overhead. The tribeswomen all bristled at the sudden noise, but their Royal Knight escorts didn't even flinch. As the entourage came to a stop in the middle of the street, the Royal Knight captain just pointed upward with one chainmail-covered finger.

A tiny person flitted overhead on sparkling butterfly wings: a Faerie. They were too small and androgenous to ascertain their gender, but there was no doubt that the miniature person was beautiful, with bright cerulean hair and a slender frame clad in lace. Faeries weren't common on Faeros, but they weren't a rare sight either, especially in the cities where they often worked as messengers.

"Uh, that's me!" Plum called back. She quickly pushed a lock of purple hair behind her ear, to give the messenger a better view of her face.

In a blink, the Faerie was hovering inches from Plum's nose, staring deep into her purple eyes. "Do you consent to an identity confirmation spell?"

The surrounding public started to murmur excitedly. Identity confirmation was only used for the most important communications. They were witnessing something special.

Plum took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, I consent."

"This will feel good," the Faerie warned.

That was the understatement of the century. Faerie magic was a very close parallel to Tantric magic, and it was intricately entwined with sexuality. When the Faerie's spell touched Plum's mind, it was as if her entire body was on fire with pleasure, like a lover's touch caressing every inch of her, inside and out. And then, just when she feared she might collapse in ecstasy, it was over.

"Thank you, Miss Plum. Here's your letter. It was advised that you should wait to open it until you are in a secure and private setting."

Plum blinked away the lingering sensation, then mumbled, "Thank you." She tried to reach into her travel pouch for some coin to tip the messenger, but they had already flown away.

"Let's get moving," growled the Rex Chieftess, Korla. "The New Denomination's famous patience is no reason to waste their time."

* * *

Plum felt like a criminal. Sure, she'd been invited, and sure, the Princess could use her private quarters as she wished, but…

Plum peeked around a corner, making sure the hall was clear, then she darted forward. Stealth was never her strong suit, but at least her night vision was excellent. Her bare feet padded lightly on white marble floors as she sprinted toward the warm light and steam that poured out from Princess Lucidity's private baths.

Why a single person needed an entire spa to themselves, Plum couldn't guess. It was just one of those cultural differences, she supposed. Back on Typhoon, communal baths were a beloved tradition, a chance to reach across the divisions of Chieftess, Attendant, and Warrior, a chance to bond and grow closer. Only Sires had private bathing facilities, and those were dedicated to mating.

"Luci?" Plum whispered as she stepped into the light. "I'm here."

"Come on in!" Luci called back. "There's a permanent secrecy spell on the baths, so we can be as loud as we want."

"Oh?" Plum's mind took the Princess's phrasing in a very lewd direction and ran with it. But those lewd thoughts, along with all other conscious thought, vanished as soon as she saw Luci sitting in the marble-ringed bath.

The Princess's normally golden-brown hair was dark with moisture and it hung straight down, like a curtain framing a piece of fine art. The masterpiece on display was Luci herself, her eyes sparkling with joy, her lips in a subtle, gorgeous smile, her breasts cradled by the crystal-clear water.

"You're beautiful," Plum said, unthinking.

Luci's cheeks reddened and her smile grew. "So are you. Now hurry up and get in here. I'm sure you're sick of wearing that dress." She knew about Plum's nudist ways, which were uncommon on Typhoon and unheard of within Farsought. With sexual tension at a permanent simmer across the entire continent, showing too much skin in public was sure to cause more trouble than it was worth.

Plum didn't need to be told to strip twice. The Sloth-tribe Warrior pulled her silk dress over her head in one smooth motion, revealing complete nudity beneath. Or to be more accurate, she revealed her bare breasts and the fine tan fur that covered the rest of her body.

Then, feeling embarrassed about her own nudity for the first time in her entire life, Plum approached Luci's end of the bath and stepped in. The water was blissfully hot, and she felt the tension start to melt from her sore feet before she'd even finished sitting down.

"So you got my message?" Luci asked, far too casually for how brazen that letter had been.

"I did. I was shaking with excitement all afternoon, and I had to skip dinner to avoid causing a scene."

"Aw, that won't do. I'll have some food sent over as soon as we're out of the bath."

"Luci, I…" Plum trailed off. She knew what she wanted to say, she'd rehearsed every word, and she'd already written half of them in her letter, but saying it aloud was another matter entirely.

Luci waited patiently with that infuriatingly beautiful smile on her face.

Plum swallowed and took Luci's right hand in her left, holding it tight beneath the water, and started again. "Luci, I thought I knew love. I thought I felt love, for my home, my people, my friends and lovers. I thought I was blessed and that nothing could be greater than what I already had."

Plum paused for breath, then said, "I was wrong. My love for you is something entirely beyond that, something greater than myself, something so precious and perfect and _right_ that I can't even describe it. I love you, Luci, so much it hurts."

Luci's smile cracked and her cheeks flushed and tears welled in her eyes. "It's not fair," she sobbed.

Plum blinked. "What?"

"I love you too, but how am I supposed to match that? How are you so damned _romantic?_ "

Plum slid closer along the polished marble seat until their thighs touched beneath the water. Their hands were still clasped tightly, their wrists each resting on the other's leg. "Sorry. I guess I have a silver tongue."

"Then you should put it to a different use, one that doesn't—" Luci clamped her free hand over her mouth as she realized what she was saying.

"Oh, really?" Plum said, grinning at the lewd possibility. Then she shook her head. "Let's not rush things. This is all new to you, right?"

Luci grinned right back. "I'm not as innocent as I may appear. I've kissed a maid or two in my years."

"Just kissed?"

Luci fidgeted. "Yeah… They were too afraid of my royal status to do anything more."

"I'm not afraid of your royal status."

Luci stretched upward to kiss Plum on the cheek, then said, "Prove it."

"With pleasure." First, Plum cradled Luci's cheek with one hand and returned the kiss properly, square on the lips. Then, after an endless moment of cautious exploration, of lips on lips and tongue on tongue, she pulled away.

"Sit on my lap."

Princess Lucidity had never liked being told what to do, but this was different. She stood in the bath, faced Plum, and went to straddle the larger woman's thighs.

"No, face the other way, away from me."

"Uh, okay…" Luci did as she was told, but she didn't understand why. Then strong arms engulfed her, and two hands gently pried her legs apart. "O-oh!" she gasped as one hand went to her right breast, and the other slid up her inner thigh.

"Just relax, my love," Plum whispered, "and let me know if I go too far."

The sensual tone in Plum's voice sent a shiver all the way to Lucidity's core. The embrace alone was already ecstacy. And then the real pleasure started.

* * *

At that moment, the Mammoth-Tribe Chieftess known as The Madame was visiting a nondescript townhome across the city. The house sat in a row of nearly identical townhomes, mostly owned by minor nobles and merchants, but this building was owned by someone very different indeed, and she had lived there for over 200 years.

"Everleigh," The Madame started, bowing deeply. Her blonde hair, currently loose around her shoulders to distract from her large grey ears, spilled forward with the motion. Her substantial bosom also spilled forward, almost escaping the confines of her immodest top. "It is truly an honor to meet you."

"The honor is all mine," the other woman replied with an unreadable smile. "Word of your tribe and their prowess has reached my ears on many occasions, but I never dreamed I'd be able to meet a Mammoth Chieftess in person, especially not the esteemed Madame."

"Please, just call me Mads," came her reply, unfazed by the flattery. "I'd like to keep things… _casual_ this evening." She punctuated her request with a wink of one storm-grey eye and a wiggle of her bounteous hips.

"Of course, of course. Mads it is." Everleigh crossed the bedroom to a full-length mirror and pondered her own reflection for a moment. She appeared human, with long black hair in a single braid that reached the floor. Her eyes were blue that day, with specks of silver throughout that matched the various silver jewelry that ornamented her deeply tanned skin. She was dressed in a thin gossamer gown of genuine Arachne silk that covered little and accentuated everything.

"Speaking of casual," she added. "Do you mind if I shed my disguise?"

"Not at all," Mads answered. She was beyond curious about the true form of an Elder Demon. She was slightly afraid, of course, but also honored and thrilled. Elder Demons weren't as powerful or mysterious as Gods or Dragons, but only barely.

In the blink of an eye, Everleigh's human disguise vanished and she took on the form of a succubus. Her caramel skin became a rosy violet, four elaborately curved horns the same midnight black as her hair sprung from her temples and forehead, and bat-like wings unfurled from her mid-back. Her bare feet had a dagger-like spike on each heel that kept her standing tall on her toes.

"Ahaha! Good one," Mads chuckled. "I _love_ that look, but I know it isn't your true appearance."

"Tsk. Who told you? Was it Kierento?"

"I don't kiss and tell," Mads quipped.

"That boy has no sense for drama. Fine, I'll show you my true form, but I make no apologies if you are bothered by it."

In a flash, Everleigh's true body appeared. Her long black braid remained, in a way, as a prehensile and segmented tail that was barbed on the end like the scorpions of the Seshirath Desert. Her wings became regions of twisted and folded air, somehow occupying both more and less space than before, and looking at them was like staring down a hallway of broken mirrors and shifting shadows. Her four horns stayed the same size and shape, but the two that extended from her temples became flexible and swayed like tentacles in an unseen current. Her eyes filled in from edge to edge with glimmering black and blue and silver: the night sky distilled into ever-shifting liquid.

To Mads' surprise, the rest of Everleigh's gorgeous physique was untouched. The swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips beneath her wisp of a dress, and her toned and powerful legs all remained exactly within most mortal standards of beauty.

"Amazing," Mads mumbled, admiring every inch of the glorious being before her, while trying not to linger too long on the reality-warping parts that scratched disconcertingly at her mind. "But I have to know… um…" She couldn't think of a delicate way to phrase her question.

Everleigh finished the thought for her. "Why is the majority of my body so normal?" She spun around and flaunted her perfect figure. "It's because lesser lust demons are built to match a mortal ideal…"

Her ruby lips grinned, revealing teeth that were unnervingly white and perfect. "And mortal ideals were built to match me."

The air seemed to grow heavy and caught in Mads' throat, and she had to force herself to breathe again. Then she whispered, "How old _are_ you?"

Everleigh's grin became a friendly and genuine smile. "I think you know the answer to that question."

After that, the conversation moved to diplomatic matters. The alliance between Typhoon and the Church of Love was secure, but another organization was sure to cause them both trouble in the future: the Citadel of Holy Light. That prudish sect of religious zealots was always trying to force its beliefs on others, and it was sure to send missionaries to Typhoon, if it hadn't already.

"What do you recommend we do to stop their recruiters?" Mads asked. She didn't think the Citadel's messages of monogamy, celibacy, and bloodline purity would catch on with the Tribes, but she couldn't be sure. The Trihorn Tribe, with their love of rigid rules and morality, were at the greatest risk of corruption.

"Well, no one can stop their ships from departing Faeros. The Citadel has their own port city in Vertia, and being on the eastern coast already, they can reach your shores without resupplying."

"And this Vertia—" Mads had to pause to catch her breath. "It's beyond the Kingdoms' control?"

"Yes. Entering it with a military force would be tantamount to a declaration of war on a foreign country. And this continent has had quite enough of war. We could never persuade either of the current Kings to engage at that level."

"So, do you, mmmm, have another idea?" Mads couldn't deny the pleasure that was building inside her.

"Get to your people first. I know how self-serving this sounds, but you could spread the message of the Church of Love throughout Typhoon. It's with great pride that I can say that followers of the Church never convert to the Citadel's ways, even under immense pleasure— I mean pressure."

"I must admit, _ahh_ , that your message is quite convincing," Mads gasped, falling forward onto the bed as her arms gave out.

Still up on her hands and knees and facing the other way, Everleigh smirked and picked up the pace, her ass slamming backwards into Mads. Flesh slapped against flesh again and again as they met in the middle of the glowing rod they were sharing. "I'll even travel there myself, if that's what it takes. Got room for one more on your return vessel?"

Mads tried to reply, but another orgasm knocked the thought out of her reach. There was nothing quite like sex for clearing the mind and opening communicating between two people, but it had never been this intense before. That double-sided rod Everleigh had created was a dangerous thing indeed: it shapeshifted automatically to seek maximum pleasure and had been enchanted to share sensations between partners.

Between pummeling waves of ecstacy, Mads managed, "With the way things are going with my dear Plum, we may have a vacant spot on the ship."

"Ah, with Princess Lucidity," Everleigh said knowingly. Of course the closest thing the Church of Love had to a leader would have heard about the Princess's new 'friend'. "I think the stage is well set for their love."

"Unnnn…" Mads had opened her mouth to speak, but an unflattering moan escaped instead. She'd never been out-sexed so thoroughly in her life, and it was truly humbling. She tried to speak again and again, but conscious thought was lost to her. A chain of orgasms, arriving like the crashing tide of a tropical storm, stuck Mads and pinned her under its immense pressure—and pleasure—for several minutes.

And all the while, Everleigh stoically weathered all the same sensations. Every orgasm was mirrored and shared, but the Elder Demon held strong, casually discussing politics while pushing even harder. Such was the difference between a mortal master of sex with decades of experience and an immortal one with _eons_.

* * *

"Well, well, well. What _do_ we have here?" said a raspy, ragged voice. Its owner looked far from ragged in polished steel armor and a pristine white tabard that bore the crenelated symbol of the Citadel of Holy Light.

A shorter man stepped forward, wearing a similar tabard and lightweight chain armor. "Were I a betting man, I'd wager it's some of those foreign invaders from Typhoon. They're just as strange and feral as I'd feared. Just look at the size of those teeth!"

Plum pulled on Korla's arm, hoping to reunite with the rest of the party before any trouble could erupt. "Ignore them, Korla. They can't touch us anyway."

"What was that, furball?" the taller man spat. "You don't decide what the holy soldiers of the Citadel can and cannot do."

Plum kept her voice as level and friendly as possible as she replied, "We are diplomatic guests of King Vandir Farsought. Please don't interfere in official business."

The shorter man, whose eyes barely reached Korla's elbow, stepped closer. "I doubt that shopping for cheap jewelry is official business. And those trinkets look dreadful on you, like mithril on swine."

The other man added, "I heard those swine allied with the Cult of Love. Nothing but pigs in a pen together, rutting and rolling in filth."

"Exactly, Jondar! They foul the land with their presence. We have a duty to cleanse it, do we not?"

The two men were clearly enjoying themselves, no doubt feeling safe and superior. At least six more similarly-dressed soldiers had gathered nearby to watch, and to be an unspoken threat.

Korla stepped forward, unafraid. "Move along, humans. I don't want a scene."

The short man cackled. "You _are_ a scene! You stick out like a rotting pumpkin in a tomato harvest!"

Korla leaned forward, breathed in deep, then said, "And you smell like you've been fucking a rotting pumpkin. How many more years of bootlicking until you're allowed to take a real wife, tiny?"

That got him in a sore spot. He snapped and took a swing with one mail-gauntleted fist. Korla stood perfectly still and took it on the chin. It split the skin, causing a small trickle of blood to run over the larger scars already present on her jaw.

Then she calmly turned and asked Plum, "You're better versed in Farsought law than I am. What's the policy on public brawls?"

Plum smiled and answered, "Since they instigated the verbal conflict _and_ struck first, you're now legally allowed to fight back, as long as you don't kill them or sever any limbs. Other wounds can be healed trivially."

A jagged wall of gleaming teeth that barely resembled a smile emerged on Korla's face. "Excellent."

The swing of a bare fist to the gut crumpled the smaller man. He gasped for air and fell sideways. His friend, apparently named Jondar, raised a sword and swung at where Korla had been, but she'd already advanced.

She pivoted forward on one foot and struck with her other hand, chopping at the joint between his helmet and pauldron. There was an audible _CRACK_ as his collarbone fractured. His eyes went wide and watery beneath his visor, but he remained standing.

"Impressive," Korla said, but she didn't slow. She brought down a bare heel on Jondar's steel-clad foot with the full force of her massive Rex thighs, pounding it flat. His steel boot didn't crunch so much as squish beneath the force.

A gasping scream echoed from inside his helmet. Behind Korla, the smaller man had recovered enough to draw a short blade. He lunged at her, aiming for the exposed skin at her lower back, for the fragile organs beneath.

Plum clicked her tongue in disdain, then with surprising swiftness, she brought her knee up into the man's elbow. Several bones crunched and the knife clattered to the ground. "That was a potentially lethal attack. With that, you have escalated this beyond a public brawl."

She grabbed the man by his intact arm and lifted him until his feet dangled a full foot off the ground. Then she looked around at the gathered bystanders, including the six Citadel soldiers who were trying to fade into the crowd, and announced, "Unless anyone disputes my understanding of events, we will be taking these two criminals to the nearest Royal Knight barracks for arrest!"

"Please do!" shouted a woman in the crowd. She raised a fist and several small snakes rose from beneath her hat, hissing triumphantly. The Citadel of Holy Light had earned no friends among non-human species.

"I'll come too and bear witness," added another man with large mouse-like ears. "I heard and saw it all."

Korla easily tossed the two groaning men over her shoulders and followed the helpful mousefolk through the parting sea of people toward the barracks. She spoke as they walked, keeping it vague so that only Plum would understand. "I wanted to let you know that I approve of your friend, Plum. You can stay with me if you choose, but you may leave with my blessing."

"Really?" Plum hadn't fully considered how her relationship with the Princess would impact the one with Korla. Other than Sires and their Attendants, nearly all relationships on Typhoon were open ones, and Korla still had the other girlfriends in her little 'harem', but emotions didn't always follow logic. Of course Korla would be emotionally invested in her. Plum felt guilty for not realizing that sooner.

Korla took a slow breath, and her voice wavered slightly as she continued, "Of course. My arms are always open for you, and that means letting go, too."

* * *

Luci and Plum snuck off together almost every night, using the Princess's unparallelled knowledge of the castle to find private and romantic date spots. They kept their more intimate interactions, of which there were nearly as many, to the Princess's private quarters.

Plum was holding her smaller girlfriend in a fittingly-named 'princess carry' when she stepped into a moonlit garden filled with sculptures and fountains and blossoming roses. It was absolutely beautiful and would have made for the most lovely date, except…

The King of Farsought was already there. He watched them enter with calm interest, and continued to watch as Plum gently lowered the Princess to her feet on the soft grass.

Plum stayed silent, letting the Princess speak to her father.

"Father, what brings you here?"

"You do, Lucidity," he answered.

Plum's blood went cold. She feared the worst. He was there to stop their affair, to pull them apart and sever their love at the root.

"I'd like to congratulate you."

"For what?" Luci asked, blinking.

"For your imminent engagement."

"What?" Plum gasped, unable to suppress her emotion. _This is a nightmare come true. Luci is being married off, right from under my nose, and certainly against her own wishes!_

Luci held strong, not allowing her imagination to run away with the situation. "Seriously, Father, what are you talking about?"

"I had to take action, because I can't have rumors getting out that the Princess of the Kingdom of Farsought, first in line for succession, is having a secret affair with a foreign diplomat."

Plum and Luci frowned in unison. They each grabbed for the other's hand and held it tight.

After an eternity of a moment, the King continued, "So I'd much rather make a public announcement that the Princess of the Kingdom of Farsought, first in line for succession, is engaged to be wed to a foreign diplomat."

"Father, are you saying…" She couldn't even finish the thought.

"I'm saying I approve of your relationship. I've known for months that Plum is a fine and upstanding woman, and over the last fortnight everyone in the castle has seen just how happy she makes you. And as the steward of the land of Farsought, I desire a strong alliance with the people of Typhoon."

He smiled warmly at the two women. "If you don't mind a political marriage, I'd very much like the two of you to be wed."

Plum was struck speechless, but Luci's mind leapt into motion, pondering the many implications of that statement.

"But what about the throne? What about heirs?"

"Farsought can be ruled by a Queen, as it was three generations ago. And the next heir can be adopted, as was the case with my father."

"Grandfather was adopted? I never knew…"

"From a local orphanage, in fact. The secrecy agreement kept the orphanage well funded ever since. But the deal allows for the royal family to reveal the truth if needed. I'll make sure the world learns of my father's history soon, to pave the way for your family."

"Oh, Father!" Luci cheered, wrapping him in a hug.

Plum, even more overwhelmed by this amazing news than Luci had been, didn't know what to do. Her mind was awash with emotion and confusion until her body moved on its own and hugged them both.

The King didn't even flinch as the massive woman embraced the two royals. He just smiled harder and embraced his future daughter back.

* * *

"Would you want to stay in Korla's harem?" Luci asked, twirling a lock of Plum's purple hair around one finger. They were tangled in the world's finest Arachne-silk sheets, naked and sweaty beneath the moonlight that poured in through the massive window above the Princess's bed.

"I want whatever you want," Plum answered.

Luci punched her lightly. "That's my line. And we need someone to make a decision or we'll never get anywhere."

"Well, I love Korla. Not in the same way I love you, but it's love nonetheless. I want to keep that relationship, even if it stops being sexual."

Luci blushed, but held eye contact. "It can stay sexual. I'm not so selfish as to take that from you."

"Perhaps I can share it with you."

"Huh?" Luci couldn't even fathom what was being offered.

Plum explained, "We can ask Korla to join us for a night. She can be very gentle, when she needs to be."

Luci's sex-flushed skin turned even redder as she imagined that, as she pictured herself running her hands over Korla's chiseled abs, then pictured Korla and Plum looming tall over her vulnerable body. "I… could be talked into such a thing."

* * *

"She likes to be overwhelmed," Korla explained. She put a hand on Lucidity's lower back and it easily spanned the smaller woman's entire waist. "And you can be _far_ more rough. She's durable." With that, Korla pushed forward and down, grinding the Princess's flower into Plum's face.

"Ah- _ahhh_ ," Luci moaned in pleasure, and Plum wriggled happily beneath her.

Plum stopped wiggling, at least briefly, when Korla grabbed Plum's left leg and lifted it until her toes were pointed to the ceiling. Korla straddled her other leg and slid forward until the two women were connected at the crotch.

The Chieftess continued her 'How to Please Plum' lesson while taking a little pleasure for herself. "She also loves receiving oral, but I've never been any good at it. Just be observant, and I'm sure you'll learn."

"Uh, oh, right…" Luci mumbled, distracted by what Plum's tongue was up to. "Be observant. I'll try."

"Oh, if you _really_ want to tip the scales in your favor, just ask Mads for some tips. There's just three days before we return to Typhoon, but we'll be back in autumn for the wedding."

Princess Lucidity went completely still, and Plum lifted her butt up and out of the way so she could see Korla's face.

"How do you know about that?" Plum asked, more aggressively than she'd intended. Their engagement was still secret, and the actual wedding schedule had only just been decided that morning. No one outside the King's advisors should have known that the wedding would be held in autumn.

Korla grinned. "Who do you think originally told the King about your little trysts? Mads has been working with him directly for some time now, and obviously she kept the rest of the Chieftesses informed."

"What?!" the newly engaged couple shouted in unison.

" _Someone_ had to smooth over the diplomatic relations, once you started doing stupid things like _sleeping with the heir to the throne of the country you're trying to forge diplomatic ties with_." Korla emphasized the scolding by slapping Plum's thigh with each word.

Plum looked away in shame. "That's fair."

Luci reached down and ruffled Plum's hair. "Don't feel bad. It was as much my fault as yours."

A deep chuckle escaped Korla's lips. "Forget about that and just enjoy yourselves tonight. I've got a lot more tricks to show you, Princess Lucidity."

"Just Luci, please. We're basically family now."


	4. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The approaching royal wedding is dominating conversation all across Faeros and even Typhoon. Korla and Everleigh confront some missionaries on Typhoon, we get a peek into the planning of the wedding outfits, and Plum and Princess Lucidity finally get a moment alone together.

"It's so _hot,_ " Everleigh marveled. From the sand beneath her feet, to the light breeze, to the sun on her skin, everything was unreasonably warm, even for summer.

"Yep," Korla said with a shrug. "But this is about the hottest it ever gets, and it doesn't get much colder either. Typhoon doesn't really have seasons the way Faeros does."

Everleigh nodded, her ankle-length black hair swaying with the motion. Since she was fully disguised as human at the moment, her hair looked nothing like the demonic scorpion tail it truly was. "I finally understand why your people wear such revealing outfits, despite the influence of Eros being so faint here."

The Rex Tribe Chieftess glanced down at the smaller woman, who was wearing a full-coverage dress, woven from zig-zagging threads of a dozen different colors. It was eye-catching and cheerful, but it looked awfully warm to be wearing on a tropical island. After all, Korla's own outfit was barely more than a few strips of Dire Wolf fur. "You can shed some layers if you want. No need to be modest here."

Everleigh pondered that for a moment, then shook her head. "I can handle the heat, and I want to make sure I'm approachable to the Trihorn tribe. You said they value modesty."

"Good call. I heard rumors that Citadel missionaries have already set up camp along the cliff-side trail. They may have recruited some Trihorn followers already."

Everleigh's tan skin went pale. "There's no time to waste. Once their lies and promises take hold of an impressionable audience, undoing the damage becomes much harder."

Korla nodded. "We can reach the village in under an hour if I carry you."

"No." Everleigh smiled, and the blue specks in her eyes sparkled. "I can keep up, even without my wings." Said wings were currently completely hidden, to avoid spooking the locals.

Korla was the island of Typhoon's greatest athlete, perhaps in its entire history. She had pushed herself for decades, always training, always facing greater threats, and always growing stronger. She could leap from treetop to treetop, support her entire body weight on one finger as she scaled a cliffside, and run across open ground at the speed of a horse. And somehow, Everleigh kept up.

"No offense, but your abilities are a bit… disconcerting," Korla said as they leapt across a raging river and landed on the far side. "How does that slender body produce enough force to make these jumps?"

"Magic," Everleigh answered, "and a connection to the Realm of Lust. I am a bit like a tree with roots that reach deep into the soil for sustenance, except my 'roots' have tapped into my home plane. Don't worry, most demons have no such connection. Just a few Elder Demons."

"On that note, will you reveal your demonic nature to the Trihorns?"

"Yes. I need to lay a foundation of honesty. Please introduce me as a demon, and a representative of the Church of Love."

"You got it," Korla said as she launched herself across another chasm.

* * *

The pair jogged into the Citadel of Holy Light's camp just before sundown. In addition to the human visitors in white robes, some Trihorn warriors were helping to set up a large bonfire.

"Korla! Korla the Heroine has come to visit us!" shouted one of the Trihorn women, who had blue-grey hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, making the two short blue horns on her forehead very prominent. A matching horn jutted from her nose. Judging by the horns' length, she must have been under 18 years old.

Korla fought back the fury that was rising in her heart at the sight of a young woman already falling prey to the Citadel's dogma. She forced a smile. "Yes! And I come with a special guest who traveled with me all the way from the continent of Faeros."

Within minutes, over a dozen Trihorn warriors had gathered around, along with nearly as many human members of the Citadel of Holy Light. Most of the humans were female, but a few men were present as well. Of the tribes of Typhoon, only Trihorns could be trusted to interact calmly with male visitors. Mammoth warriors would likely have taken the men to their beds immediately.

"Greetings, everyone. Thank you for the warm welcome, especially after my long journey." Korla waved and smiled approachably, putting her Chieftess training to good use. "I hope you'll extend the same courtesy to my guest, who is also a guest of the Council of Chieftesses: Everleigh of the Church of Love."

She gestured to her right, where Everleigh stood at barely two thirds her own height. "She is a demon, but despite any rumors you may have heard about demonkind, she's kind and selfless and a dear friend. I would trust her with my life." Korla smiled and added, "The Trihorn Tribe has more in common with her than you might think, such as those lovely horns and a shared desire for peace."

Everleigh had dropped most of her disguise, appearing as a typical succubus. She had four black horns on her head, two emerging from her temples and arcing upward, and two from behind her ears that curved forward. Her thin spade-tipped tail swayed slowly behind her, having slipped through a small slit in her colorful dress.

She bowed deeply, and said, "Thank you for allowing me to visit your lovely land and this camp." Then she lifted her head and scanned the audience for a displeased Citadel missionary. They never could hide their distrust of demons, and she was sure that it would only take a tiny spark to light a fire.

She found an older man with a shaved or balding head and a bushy black mustache, and she met his gaze. Then she said, "Oh, I see the Citadel of Holy Light is also visiting the Trihorn village today!"

His scowl deepened, but he said nothing. The blue-haired warrior next to him tilted her head and said, "Oh, you know of them? I know your homeland of Faeros is very vast, so I didn't want to assume."

Everleigh smiled, and it was so gorgeous it got some hearts fluttering in the audience. Then she frowned deeply. "I do know of them. Though on Faeros, they were not very welcoming of Korla or myself."

The man's composure slipped. "Because you are a demon! A vile creature who lives on lust and sin!"

"I admit that I require sexual interaction to survive, but that is true of every species. Every Attendant and Sire on this island engages in sex for the continuation of their tribe." She swept her gaze across the gathered tribeswomen. "You Warriors seek to attain the coveted rank of Attendant so that you may join that sacred duty, and until you achieve that goal, you may find comfort and solace in the embrace of your peers. There is nothing vile in that. It is nature, and it is love."

A warrior with pink hair that was unusually long and wild for a Trihorn spoke up, "But Father Olor said that relations between women are wrong, that they are harmful."

Korla stepped forward, straightening to her full height of nearly nine feet. "Who is harmed by such a relationship? When two women consent to provide love and care to each other, who is the victim?"

To his credit, the bald man stood his ground. "The soul is harmed. Honor is harmed. And those who dirty themselves with sin are their own victims. Just as our Creator made us different in tribe and in homeland, he also made us match in gendered pairs. That is the only way to live in his light."

Korla sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Ooh, you must not have heard…"

Everleigh nodded somberly. "The news hasn't reached them…"

"What news?" the blue-haired Warrior asked, her stocky and scale-covered tail wilting. "Is it bad?"

"It's wonderful news!" Korla cheered suddenly. "One of our own, a certain rising star with a silver tongue, fell in love during her mission to Faeros. Now she is engaged to be wed to the Princess of the Kingdom of Farsought. That's right, Plum the Sloth Tribe Warrior will be a Queen of Farsought, and our two lands shall be united in love and shared prosperity forevermore!"

Cheers went up throughout the camp. Trihorns disliked violence more than the other tribes, and ever since foreigners began to arrive on the shores of Typhoon, the threat of war had loomed on the horizon. Everyone on Typhoon had hoped for a peaceful relationship with the people of Faeros, but a royal union and alliance was beyond anything they had imagined.

Korla stared down at Father Olor. "I think you'll find that relationships between two women are quite accepted in the lands of Farsought and Typhoon. And in my opinion, your views on demons are also outdated and harmful."

The cheers for Plum's union faded and were replaced by low murmurs about the Citadel and its hateful message. Korla let them continue for a long moment, then she raised a hand and the camp went silent.

"Everleigh and myself were on our way up to the village to share the good news with the Trihorn Tribe. Would anyone else like to join us?"

There was a wave of cheers and a rush of bodies, but Korla had one final thing to say. Loudly and clearly, she said, "I speak for the Council of Chieftesses when I say that hateful beliefs are not welcome here on Typhoon. But all _peaceful_ visitors, even those who used to belong to the Citadel of Holy Light, shall be treated as family. Please lay down your hate and celebrate with us."

* * *

Back on Faeros, the approaching royal wedding was the largest topic of conversation, all the way to the farthest reaches of the continent. And within the Kingdom of Farsought, it had begun to dominate trade and even adventuring.

In an inn just inside of the capital city's walls, dozens of adventurers gathered to relax, recover, and take on new quests from the Adventurer's Guild. At one long and crowded table, two adventuring parties swapped stories and tips.

"If you go out towards the Seshirath Desert, keep an eye out for gem tortoises," said a tall woman with short green hair and long pointed ears. "Their shells aren't just pretty, they sell for a pretty penny. People are making marriage charms out of them."

The centaur next to her squirmed uncomfortably and brushed her long blonde hair back over her ears. "I don't like the idea of killing innocent animals for fashion."

"Oh, it ain't just for fashion. The charms are supposed to give good fortune to the new Quee—"

One of the men at the table, a dwarf with a golden-brown beard like a lion's mane, interrupted, "Whoa! Take a look at her!"

He was pointing at a towering woman who had just ducked to enter the inn. She had tightly braided brown hair, creamy tan skin, and jaws filled with sharp teeth. She also wore a tiny leather skirt and had thighs as big around as a dwarf's entire body.

The green-haired elf grinned in recognition. "Ah, she's Rex tribe. Ooh, and she's got one of those Blacksteel weapons. I'd kill for one of those."

Slung on the Rex woman's back was a double-bladed axe nearly as tall as a man and made entirely of a deep black metal that barely reflected any light.

"What's so special about it?" the centaur asked.

The dwarf answered, "It's indestructible, that's what. Acid, slime, rust elemental, none of 'em can scratch Blacksteel. Too bad it's only made in some volcano in their homeland. Too rich for my blood."

A human man in a dark hood spoke up, "I could afford one, if it weren't for all my lost questing profits. Tons of them Typhoon women are in town for the wedding, and they're bored so they've been taking on quests. And they're so damned _strong_ , they're taking all the guild's biggest tasks like they're nothing."

The centaur woman watched the Rex warrior cross the room and sit down at the bar, then she leaned in close to her friends and said, "Yeah, they make me feel pretty inadequate. But at least things will go back to normal after the wedding."

The elf raised a slender eyebrow. "You mean the political marriage of our Princess to a diplomat from Typhoon, binding our countries in a long-lasting partnership? These women are here to _stay_."

"This sucks," the hooded man moped. "They'll take all the good quests."

The elf punched him in the arm. "No, this is a good thing, at least for people willing to partner with them. Now we can team up with them and safely take down quests that would have been too dangerous before."

"I'd like to team up with them," the dwarf said, "but they're so… scary."

The centaur nodded. "Scary hot…"

* * *

"Alright, ladies and gent, this here is Shuven, the best seamstress and designer on all of Typhoon. Please make her feel welcome and don't shout down her ideas just because there are more of you than her," said a man in a crisp and elegant suit. He stood in the doorway of a well-stocked crafting hall, looking small next to the towering shelves of sewing supplies.

"You got it, Boss," said a little pixie with pink butterfly wings. She was only 10 inches tall, and she was dressed in a finely crafted skirt and vest, both a pale sky blue.

The man frowned and put a hand on one hip. "We went over this. My name is Jett, and I'm not your boss, I'm a lowly coordinator for the Royal Wedding Committee. I'm here for you, not the other way around."

"You got it, Jett," the pixie said, rolling her eyes.

With that, Jett bowed and left the room, hurrying off to some other wedding-related task.

Two other faeries, one with white and brown sparrow wings and one who somehow flew with no wings at all, gathered around the new arrival. She was taller than the doorframe, with round furry ears and massive saber-like fangs that extended out past the bottom of her jaw. Her short hair and fur were both a warm yellow with stripes of black, and her eyes were bright gold. She was dressed in a multi-sectioned dress, each horizontal strip a different shade of green and held to the one above by short silver chains, showing little glimpses of tanned skin between.

"Hiya, Shuven! Love your dress!" said the wingless fairy, who floated through the air within a small transparent bubble. Despite its fragile appearance, his bubble was nearly indestructible. He was a bit smaller than the other fairies, and he wore a long dress and a silver tiara woven into his orange-red hair. "I'm Bebb," he said with a curtsy.

"Fir," said the sparrow pixie. She had swept-back black hair and wide black eyes, and she wore a short pinafore dress, carefully made to look like it had been stitched together with real leaves and twine rather than cloth and silken thread.

"And I'm Rellilila," the butterfly-winged one said, pointing at herself. "Jen, Commi, and Alerianeth are at a meeting with the merchant guild to acquire gem tortoise shells for our work, but they should be here soon."

The sabertooth woman nodded and repeated their names, "Bebb, Fir, Rellill… uh Relila?"

"Just call her Rell," Bebb said.

As Shuven carefully maneuvered around the little fairies to get to an open seat at the massive work table, Bebb bounced over to her. "So, got any designs on you? I assume that dress is one of yours, but I'd love to see more!"

"I do," Shuven said, pulling a small book from a hidden pocket in her dress.

"It has pockets!" Fir whispered loudly.

"Here are a bunch of my designs, including some I made on the boat. Those are a little rough, since the waves were… unpleasant." Her long tail drooped pitifully.

"Seasickness," Fir said, frowning.

Rell swooped down and took the book, then put it down on the table and opened to the first page. There was a drawing there of a woman in a sheer white robe that had a web-like pattern running through it. Beneath it, she was wearing a tiny pair of white shorts, a leather waist belt with pockets, and no bra whatsoever.

"Sexy," Fir said.

"Yeah it is," Rell said, "But not what we're looking for in a wedding outfit. What else you got?"

"Oh, these are my wedding-inspired designs." Shuven flipped to one of the later pages. "We don't have weddings on Typhoon, so I channeled our ceremonial Attendant fashion instead. I took a bit from the Consummation Night style and a bit from Pregnancy Celebration."

The first design was a long tropical-blue dress with cutouts on the side, but surprisingly conservative coverage everywhere else. Gold rings pinched the cloth together at the belly and lower back, and a braided gold rope ran beneath the breasts.

"Lovely!" Fir cheered.

Bebb nodded. "This could work for the bridesmaids, maybe with a bit of additional flare here and there."

They flipped through a few more pages to similar positive remarks, and Shuven opened up about her style and approach to design. She painted her designs by dipping all her claws in different colors of paints, then used them like individual fountain pens. And she looked to both nature and other cultures' fashion for inspiration, which explained the mermaid and sailor-inspired looks.

"What about the men?" Rell asked. They'd seen over two-dozen designs, but they had all been modeled on female figures.

Shuven turned to one of the back pages, where two figures were drawn opposite each other. "Only one in 500 of my people are male, so I don't get many chances to design for them. But these two were my best received by the Sires and their Attendants."

All three faeries blushed. The two designs were definitely flattering for the male figure, but they looked more at home in a brothel than a wedding. And whatever design the Wedding Committee went with had to be dignified. After all, _the_ King of Farsought would be part of the wedding party.

"Too sexy," said Fir.

"That's okay! I've got one more that I did on the boat. It's based on the traditional Sire ceremonial outfits, with some extra material for modesty." Shuven flipped the page and stepped back to let the little fairies get a good look, her tail flicking excitedly.

Rell went as pink as her wings. " _That's_ the modest version?!"

Bebb covered his eyes. "You can see the exact size and shape of his, you know!"

"So big," said Fir.

Shuven tilted her head. "Yes. Isn't that the point? To show it off and demonstrate confidence?"

Rell gently closed the book. "Uhh. Let's hand off the men's outfits to Commi and Alerianeth for now. I'm sure they'll find ways to incorporate Typhoon culture into a dignified suit. But I _love_ your work on the women's designs, and I want you on that full time."

* * *

"Finally," sighed Princess Lucidity as she flopped backwards onto her massive bed. Her long hair, now free of constraining pins and that heavy crown, splayed out behind her like waves of golden grain.

"Finally, we're done with that neverending ceremony? Or finally, we're married?" Plum asked. Her own purple hair had also been freed from its rigid styling, and she had it pulled back from her temples and lightly braided to keep it out of her face.

"Finally we're _alone_ ," Luci answered. "I've had a maid or a wedding coordinator or my _father_ attached to my hip for the last three days straight."

Plum laid down next to Luci with her feet still on the floor. She was two feet taller than the Princess, but the giant bed made them both look small. "Good point. The peace and quiet is lovely, and I'm going to sleep so well." The Sloth ended her statement with a big yawn, already growing sleepy in the dim moonlight that shone through the large bay window.

Luci sat up in a hurry. "Not yet, my dear Plum. I've got something else in mind before we both get a wonderful night's sleep." Then she climbed out of bed and stood before Plum in a strong stance until she too sat upright.

"Oh? What could you be thinking?" Plum asked, feigning innocence. "After such a long and stimulating day, surely you want to just relax and go to sleep."

Luci's wedding dress was pale silver silk with blue shoulder straps and a gem-encrusted upper hem across her breasts and shoulders, and it had been designed to incorporate a variety of Typhoon's cultural values. They valued mobility highly, so there were long slits all the way up the front of both legs. That allowed Luci to straddle Plum's lap and stare straight into her twilight-colored eyes.

"I want you to kiss me," Luci said, channeling her 'royal authority' voice. "And keep kissing me until our needs are quenched and the dawn is cresting the horizon."

Plum answered, not with the words she was internationally famous for, but with a caring touch known only to Luci. She cradled Luci's head in one massive hand, wrapped the other arm low around her back, and pulled her forward until their lips met. And she kissed her wife like it was the first time, like it was the last time, like she never wanted it to end.

"Mmm, oh, Plum," Luci moaned when Plum's lips wandered enough for Luci to suck in a much needed breath of air. Princess Lucidity had been restrained and proper and dignified for her entire public life, but with Plum, she was free. Free to take what she craved, give whatever she wanted, and love without limits. She kissed back as hard as she could, pressing herself tight to her lover, pushing her tongue needily into Plum's mouth.

The taste of wedding cake greeted her, from that final slice they'd shared before finally escaping to privacy. Sweet berries and tangy citrus syrup from Typhoon, buttercream and sweet-cake from Farsought, and a drizzle of dark chocolate imported from the northern kingdom of A'losh. And the taste of Plum was there too, that unforgettable flavor of a lover's desire, hot with need and passion.

Plum returned every lustful lick and kiss with another of her own until her lips ached and her body burned for more. But she held back, bottled her lust for later. Now, in this moment of infinite intimacy, she planned only to kiss and hold and love Luci as long as possible, determined to outlast her smaller lover's willpower, to claim a pointless little victory over her new wife.

Luci was indeed the first to break. As she nibbled Plum's lower lip and ran her hands across the soft exposed fur of Plum's sides, Luci started to thrust her hips, grinding forward and back. They moved on their own, craving attention, burning for Plum's touch. "I want more," she moaned.

"But you ordered me to keep kissing you," Plum said with a smug little grin, barely visible in the low light but perfectly frustrating nonetheless.

"Then kiss me while your fingers work," Luci hissed. "I need you in me."

Plum was quick to take action. She reached down with one hand and hooked a thumb under Luci's panties, which were high waisted to avoid being glimpsed through her wedding dress's leg slits, and she pulled them aside. She gave another couple tugs from the backside and then had plenty of room to work.

Luci sucked in a surprised breath upon Plum's first gentle touch, then melted into it. A wide fingertip, the skin soft and warm, pressed against her slit, demanding entrance. Hot moisture came to greet Plum, the folds parted, and her large finger was welcomed inside.

"You're so wet," Plum whispered directly into Luci's ear. "You've been wanting this for a while."

"All my life," Luci replied through twitches of pleasure, "but mostly since I saw you in your wedding dress for the first time this morn—"

Plum kissed the words from Luci's lips without regard for how difficult all the attention was making things for her. "Oh? You like how I look in it?"

Plum's dress was similar to Luci's, but with comparatively less material, a nod to Typhoon's climate and Plum's own nudism. The back was wide open all the way to her hips, and her breasts were less than half covered, barely cradled in low-cut and cleavage-enhancing cups ringed with embroidered vines and flowers.

"I love how you look in it. I _fear_ how damned good you look in it. It did things to me that I had never felt before, and I was afraid I'd lose my composure right there in front of my father and everyone else." Luci blushed and looked downward until Plum lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her rosy cheeks.

Then Luci admitted, "I had to change my panties after that. Do you know how embarrassing it is to ask a maid to help with that, because you're too decorated up to manage it yourself?"

"I can only imagine," Plum said with that infuriating grin. She was loving this, loving her newfound power over the Princess of Farsought. Soon to be Queen of Farsought, actually. Within two years, the King planned to pass his crown and scepter to both Lucidity and Plum, then they would rule together, in love and generosity.

Plum's finger, so large compared to Luci's own, slipped further inside and earned an adorable moan. Then her thumb pressed against Luci's clit and started to move, and Luci lost all agency. She tried to hold herself upright, but even that required help from Plum's other arm.

And true to her promise from earlier, Plum never stopped kissing. She kissed Luci's lips, and her flushed cheeks, and her forehead and her nose. She licked from collarbone to earlobe, sucked on Luci's tongue, and breathed deep of her perfume- and sweat-scented hair. All while her fingers worked, delivering steady, growing pleasure to her Princess's inner palace.

"I love you, Luci," she murmured, lost in her own actions, in the pleasure of selfless giving.

"I love you, Plum," Luci managed between ragged breaths and involuntary spasms. An orgasm was upon her, yet she could only think of her love for her wife, and of the endless happiness that seemed to be spread out before them like a carpeted pathway from this moment into eternity. 'Hope' was the best way she could describe the feeling, but that word wasn't quite enough. Hope implied some measure of doubt locked in a contest against it. But Luci had no doubt at all. Only resolve, only surety.

 _Life will be amazing from this day forward,_ Princess Lucidity vowed. _And if it isn't, if anything dares to defy our happiness, I will bear down upon it with all the force of my love for this woman, and I will_ make _it better. She deserves nothing less._

_The people of our world deserve nothing less._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This lewd chapter was funded by [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Natron77), and released there a month early. If you want to read [my latest lewd story (a choose-your-own-path browser-game about a sex shop in a magical setting)](https://www.patreon.com/posts/46945130) right now _and_ vote for which lewd chapter I work on next, please consider joining at the $10 tier.


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